Love's Duet
by jokerwho
Summary: John Smith lives a quiet life with his teenage son in London but as his only child prepares for university, he couldn't help but feel as if he will be left alone yet again, that is until he meets a school teacher who resembles his late wife.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! Welcome to this new fanfic and thank you for taking the time to read it. I hope you'll enjoy the story, though I'd advise you to have some tissues ready. I know I cried while writing this chapter and that's never happened before so just as a caution, get tissues. Enjoy! :)_

* * *

John Smith stared intently at the computer screen, elbow used as a support for his head as he read through the document once again. It was the first time he had ever audited his own module and he wanted to make sure it was perfect.

The aims and objectives were there. A brief explanation of all the topics that the module will cover had been written in bullet points. The outcomes. All seemed good and he finally cracked a smile.

He heard a soft knock and looked up. His smile only grew wider.

"I'm surprised you were out of bed so early," his wife said as she slowly stepped inside, placing a hand on her swollen stomach.

He stood up and helped her settle on the sofa. "I was just checking the module sheet."

She let out a quiet laugh and shook her head. "It's going to be fine – you've taught lots of modules before and this won't be any different – the university will approve of it."

John glanced back at the computer. "I suppose you're right," he murmured, feeling her caress his hand.

"Now why don't we have breakfast before a certain someone wakes up," his wife suggested, rising to her feet.

"I'll cook," he offered immediately as he helped her up.

"John, I'm pregnant, seven months pregnant - not an invalid," she stated lightly.

He kissed her cheek. The last thing he wanted to do was tire his wife out. She was heavily pregnant and needs a lot of rest. "I know, but let me cook this one time, yeah, Mrs Oswin Smith?"

"Fine," she replied, accepting defeat. "But I'm still going to water Mrs Tucker's plants by myself later today."

While she found it adorable how her husband would be very over-protective of her whenever she is pregnant, she still wanted to do things her way.

He kissed her cheek. "Deal."

They headed downstairs with John carefully helping his wife tread the staircase. He told her to sit down on the sofa and disappeared into the kitchen, preparing their meals.

Oswin smiled when she heard the sound of pans hitting one another and giggled when she heard a spoon drop. "Are you sure you don't need my help?"

Her husband stuck his head out of the kitchen, smiling. "No, no, everything is fine," he insisted.

He was having issues cracking eggs properly and some small pieces of shell ended up in the bowl. After minutes of trying, he eventually got the last shell out before washing his hands in the sink.

John had planned to make scrambled eggs and sausages for breakfast and he was determined to get it done.

He heard the news being played in the TV room.

Just a few more minutes of cooking the sausages and he can serve breakfast for his wife.

"Daddy, what are you cooking?" asked a five-year-old boy who stood in the corridor.

He grinned. "Scrambled eggs and sausages – would you like some or do you want something else?"

The boy rubbed his eyes, walking to his father before getting on his toes to see the food that was being cooked. "Sausages and eggs, please."

"Ok, Max, go keep your mummy company," the father instructed.

Max ran back to the living room before sitting next to his mother. "How's your father doing?" the mother whispered.

"The food looks edible," he explained before focusing his attention on a cartoon playing on the television.

Oswin beamed. "Good, thank you for scouting."

"You're welcome," the five-year-old replied as he hugged his mother's swollen stomach. "When do I get to meet my baby sister or brother?"

"In two months."

The child pouted. "Can't it be now?"

"Be patient, sweetheart," Oswin said, giggling as she caressed her son's curly hair.

Less than ten minutes later, John emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of food. He set it down on the coffee table and Max reached for the glass of milk.

"See, I can cook," John declared in triumph, sitting down next to his wife.

She grabbed the plate of food before tasting the scrambled eggs. It was delicious. It wasn't really much of a surprise since her husband had been practising for a while now.

"How is it?"

"Good!" Max exclaimed with his mouth full.

"Darling, you shouldn't be talking with your mouth full," Oswin reminded.

"Sorry, mummy."

She then turned to her husband. "You're definitely getting the hang of it."

His smile only grew wider. "Well, I learned from the best," he murmured, pecking his wife on the lips.

* * *

At around noon, Oswin decided to walk to Mrs Tucker's house from across the street. Her neighbour was away with her family on vacation and she had offered to make sure the plants were watered regularly.

Her two boys were on the floor, with Max assembling a Lego set that was given to the five-year-old by his Aunt Missy while her husband was trying to fix the bright red remote-controlled car he held in his hand.

"Do you want me to come with you?" John asked, setting aside the toy.

"No, it's fine – I'm just going to Mrs Tucker's."

"Do you want me to come with you, mummy?" Max inquired.

Oswin smiled. "No, no, you two enjoying setting up the Lego," she insisted before stepping outside.

"Maybe I should go there – it's a bit slippery outside."

"John, we made a deal."

"Fine," he said in defeat, a smile playing on his lips. Such a stubborn-head, but she was his stubborn-headed woman. John got on his feet. "I'll be back," he said to his son, heading to the tool shed in the garden.

Max took several pieces of Lego and continued building the blue police box he was assembling when he heard a loud screeching followed by a crash coming from outside. He jumped at the sound, dropping the toy.

The boy stood up slowly, curious what could have caused the noise and stepped outside. He saw a badly dented vehicle with the passenger still inside before his eyes landed on his mother who was covered in a pool of blood on the ground.

The boy was too shocked to move until a man in a military uniform staggered out of the vehicle, also bleeding. There was a very unpleasant smell coming from him.

Max immediately ran to his mother, tears prickling his eyes as he shook her shoulder, in an attempt to wake her up. "Mummy, mummy!" he screamed, shaking her shoulder. "Wake up! Please!"

"Oswin!" he heard his father shout as he hurried over to them.

John wrapped his arms around his wife and kept repeating her name, hoping that she would respond.

Max cried louder and louder, screaming for his mother but she never opened her eyes.

* * *

John held his sobbing son as they waited patiently in front of the operation room. Oswin was rushed to the hospital, barely alive and immediately prepped for surgery.

They had been waiting for hours but nobody had come out yet. Eventually, Max fell asleep, using his father's knee as a pillow.

Their clothes were covered in blood and John was exhausted, but he didn't care. He wanted to make sure his wife and baby were alright.

Eventually, the surgeon stepped out. John carried his son in his arms and rose to his feet, anxiously waiting for the doctor to give an explanation.

Max rested his head on his father's shoulder, arms dangling by his sides.

Judging by the solemn look his face, it wasn't good.

"Mr Smith, please note that we have tried our best and we hope you will be able to accept the news calmly... I'm sorry but were not able to save your wife and daughter."

John's eyes became blurry and watery. He started gasping for air, trying to breathe properly. The doctor immediately helped him to a seat.

"No, no, no," he said. "She can't be… Oswin can't be… and my daughter…"

At this point, he was in tears.

John Smith was never a man to show his emotions in public but the loss of his wife and daughter proved too much.

The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mr Smith… we were facing a lot of complications… I wish I could save them."

He then stood up and decided to give John time to mourn and process the news.

John continued shedding tears. What was he going to tell Max? How was he going to break the news to his son that he longer had a mother and that his baby sister was also dead?

And what about him? How was he going to cope without the love of his life? Without the woman he promised to spend the rest of his life with?

Oh, God. His wife was gone. His daughter too. Just like that.

He continued crying until he felt a presence behind him. He turned around and blinked several times before realising it was his sister.

"How did you get here so quickly?"

"I took the next available flight back to London," she said quietly. Missy knew she had to choose her words very carefully. "Are you alright?"

"Do I look alright to you?!" he snapped, causing Max to stir. John immediately regretted raising his voice. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

His sister remained as calm as ever. She settled in the empty seat next to her brother. "Go and freshen up," she said gently. "I'll look after Max."

He nodded before handing the sleeping five-year-old to his sister. "I'll be back as quick as I can."

"Take your time," she replied, gently caressing her nephew's hair.

* * *

John stared at the plain white ceiling. He lay in bed in the dark, unable to close his eyes without seeing the horrible image of his wife, unconscious and covered in a pool of blood. If it wasn't that, it was the funeral. He didn't know which was worse.

He glanced at the empty spot next to him. She wasn't there. Oswin wasn't next to him. He felt like crying again. He felt like screaming in anger and crying his heart out whenever he thought about his dead wife and baby.

He should have told her to stay inside. He should have stopped her from watering those stupid plants. He should have said something.

The police came by to his home a day before the funeral. They had informed that the drunk driver was apprehended and they were going to press charges against him. An off-duty military officer had killed his wife because he was intoxicated and thought it was a good idea to drive. Fuck him.

But it was still his fault. John's hands curled into fists. He should have stopped her, but he didn't and now Oswin is no longer with him.

His train of thought was interrupted when the bedroom slowly creek opened. He saw a tiny figure standing by the corridor, hand still on the door handle. The boy sniffed. He should be asleep at this time of night.

John immediately sat up. "Max?"

The five-year-old immediately ran to his father and hugged him, as he continued sobbing.

It looks like he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

The father wrapped his arms around his son securely before lifting him up a bit, so the boy could sit comfortably while hugging him.

"It's alright," he murmured, rubbing his back. "It's alright."

"I want mummy," he cried, soaking his father's t-shirt. "I miss her."

John felt as if he would break down at any moment. "I miss her too."

"Couldn't you do something, daddy?" Max cried. "Aren't you a doctor, too?"

He looked away, feeling as if he had let his child down. A doctor, yes but not a medical doctor. "I'm sorry, Max."

He scooted over a bit so that his son could lie down.

"Try to sleep."

Still hiding his face in his father's chest, the boy said, "I can't."

John felt his own tears trailing down his cheeks. "Would it help if I told you how I met your mummy?"

Max nodded, arms still wrapped his father.

His father rubbed his back soothingly. "I was in my final PhD year," he began. "It was the start of the academic year and I was in the photocopy room, printing the second draft of my thesis."

"And when you stepped out, you bumped into mummy."

John smiled at the memory. "That's right… and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life, so I apologised, and she apologised too and just like that, she walked away."

He took a moment to collect himself. "But then I spotted this small notebook on the floor – it contained recipes for souffles, oddly enough… long story short, I ran after her and saw her enter the lecture room – that was how I knew we were in the same department."

"And then you gave her the notebook and asked if she likes souffles," Max added sleepily.

"Yep, she started blushing like a tomato and sat at the back of the room."

John didn't continue, as he guessed his son had fallen asleep. At least one of them could.

Silently, he brushed away the curls from his son's forehead and stared at him. He was going to have to raise his son all by himself. He wasn't sure how, but he had to. He had to be strong for Max's sake.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Enjoy reading the second chapter :)_

* * *

 _12 Years Later…_

A loud alarm rang from the smartphone sitting innocently on the nightstand before a hand reached out and grabbed the electronic device, silencing the phone.

Max Smith opened his eyes and checked the time. 6:45. It was time to get up. He drew the covers and sat up, yawning as he scratched the back of his head.

He then remembered he had two different tests today. He wasn't looking forward to it, but he felt confident he would do well.

As he climbed out of bed, heading to the closet to take out his school uniform, a knock was heard.

"Max, are you up yet?"

"Yes, dad," he answered grabbing the blue towel hanging on the hook before shutting the closet door.

Silently, he stepped out of his room and made his way to the bathroom, still half-asleep.

Fifteen minutes later, Max was back in his bedroom, putting on his school uniform. The black jacket with blue lining was laid out on the bed along with the blue and gold striped tie next to it.

He grabbed the tie and returned to the bathroom.

"You have a test for maths and physics, right?" John asked as he walked past. He too was holding a tie.

"Yep," he answered, adjusting the neckwear.

Max was the spitting image of his father. Everything from the hair to the jawline. The only things that set them apart were the nose and eyes. Rather than it being blue like his father's, he had his mother's brown eyes. A lot of friends had said he looked like a younger version of his father.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," John murmured, finishing the final knot of his tie as he stared at the mirror in the master bedroom.

The teenager smiled. "Thanks, dad."

"Pastries are in the kitchen and cereal is in the fridge – don't take out the new one yet."

Max grabbed his jacket and school bag. "Alright," he answered as he went downstairs.

As soon as the young man stepped into the kitchen, his nostrils were filled with the pleasant scent of freshly baked croissant. He had no idea how his father was able to get breakfast from the bakery down the street so early, but he wasn't complaining.

He sat down by the dinner table and pulled out his phone to check the weather and schedule for the day as he took a bite of the croissant.

Half-way through, John strode into the kitchen.

Max could see from the corner of his eyes that his father was dressed in a suit rather than his usual attire. "Do you have a research conference or something?" he asked.

"No," his father answered, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Faculty meeting with the vice-chancellor."

"Sounds boring," Max commented as his father sat next to him.

"It is," John confirmed. "Worse than sitting for two different tests on the same day," he joked.

The teenager chuckled. "I'd gladly switch places."

"I don't think it will be too difficult," his father commented. They look so much alike that all they needed was a bit of makeup and hair dye.

They continued to eat their breakfast in silence until Max finished his meal. He wanted to be at school early, so he could do some extra reading before the test. He stood up and placed the empty glass of orange juice and plate into the sink before putting on his jacket.

"I thought you were leaving for work at the same time?"

"My first lecture is at ten," John said smugly.

"Unfair," Max grumbled with a grin. "Bye, dad."

"Good luck with the tests."

"Thanks," he replied before leaving the house. He glanced to his right, waiting for the occupant of the house next to his to step out.

The front door opened, and Max's best friend walked down the steps. The young man waited by the side.

"You look like you're ready to destroy the test," Bill Potts commented as they headed to the tube station.

Max shrugged. "I'm quite confident about it – you?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I think I can at least get an A – looked through the notes and worked on the exercise sheets last night."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," he commented.

Bill grinned. "Won't do as well as you though – the great Max Smith."

Max's cheeked reddened. "It's not a big deal."

"Uh, yes, it is," she corrected. "You're like the smartest person in school."

The main reason Max was such a bright student was thanks mostly to his father. Not only had he inherited his parents love for knowledge and skills in maths, but the countless hours spent in his father's office at university paid off.

Back when he was a child, whenever his father couldn't be at home, he would follow him to university and either stay in his office or wait at the library. Of course, he didn't just sit around doing nothing. Most of the time after completing his homework, he'd spend time on the computer but there was so much he could do before he got bored and ended up reading his father's notes. Granted, he didn't understand anything at first but thanks to his father's tutoring, he was now ahead of his class.

"Just revise," Max said shyly as he produced his Oyster card.

"Easy for you to say," Bill replied. "Anyway, did you hear the rumour?"

"What rumour?"

"Mr Armitage is being promoted as headmaster of a different school so we're going to get a new teacher."

Max pursed his lips. "I don't care who it is for as long as it's not Pink."

He hated his maths teacher despite excelling and loving maths. Danny Pink to him was a boring and terrible teacher in general. At least he was in Max's opinion.

Bill said nothing as she knew her best friend's hatred for their maths teacher. "I doubt it's Mr Pink since he teaches maths – James said a new teacher will take over our class."

"That's great then," he stated they stepped into the tube.

* * *

The tests, in Max's opinion, were fine and he was sure he did well. Mr Armitage had announced he was being transferred to a new school and that his replacement will be teaching them first thing tomorrow morning. His time at school was going well until the maths period began. Luckily, it was the final period and he was looking forward to going home.

Max and Bill were seated next to each other at back with the young man crossing his arms in annoyance as he tried hard to focus on whatever Mr Pink was explaining.

"Max, don't fall asleep," Bill whispered.

"I'm not," replied sleepily.

Less than five minutes later, Max was asleep, head resting on the desk.

"Mr Smith," Danny said tightly.

No response.

"Mr Smith," he repeated louder.

Still no response. Just the teenager stirring in his sleep and the whole class laughed.

Bill kicked her best friend's leg.

"Mr Smith!"

Max jolted awake. He blinked several times, adjusting to the brightness.

"Since you insist on acting like a delinquent, come up here and answer this question," the teacher said, tapping the whiteboard with his marker.

He stood up before walking over to the whiteboard, eyes scanning through the problem. By the time he reached the front of the classroom, he was fully awake and knew the answer.

"You get the initial population by setting t to zero so 12,000."

The whole class howled. Danny immediately silenced them.

"Go back to your seat and don't fall asleep this time."

Max said nothing as he turned around and returned to his desk.

"So you take the derivative of this equation," Danny explaining, writing on the whiteboard.

Max sat down and sighed before his eyes became heavy again. He felt Bill kick his leg as she said, "Don't you dare."

Less than two minutes later, his eyes were shut.

Bill didn't notice it this time, thinking he was listening since he was still sitting upright.

"Mr Smith!"

The young man opened his eyes. "I wasn't even sleeping."

"Headmaster's office," Danny said sternly. "Now."

He furrowed his brows. "I wasn't sleeping – I just had my eyes closed," he stated.

He was telling the truth. If he couldn't stand Mr Pink, he might as well not look at him. It then dawned to him what might actually happen if he was sent to the headmaster's office.

"Leave, now."

Max packed his belongings and left the classroom, making his way to the office lounge. He had a feeling his father wouldn't like it when he finds out about this.

* * *

John Smith strode into the office lounge and spotted his son sitting in the corner, a nervous and guilty look on his face. He had a lot of explaining to do.

"Are you Max's father?" asked the man who suddenly appeared from a corner. Must be the security guard.

John cleared his throat. "Yes, I received a phone call earlier about his maths teacher wanting to have a word with me?"

Danny nodded. "Yes, that would be me, Danny Pink," he introduced himself.

John was stunned for a moment, thinking he was joking. He didn't look like a teacher. "Alright, and I'm a time-traveller."

Danny furrowed his brows at the retort, but he decided to ignore it. "Mr Smith, the reason I called you here is that Max has been dozing off a lot during my lessons."

Once more, he was stunned. His son would never act like a delinquent, unless, of course, there was something that bothered him. A thought occurred to him and he knew what it was. "You're a PE teacher."

"I'm a maths teacher!"

"You can't be a maths teacher, you're a PE teacher – you look like a PE teacher," John insisted, slowly losing his patience. It was bad enough he had to ask a colleague to cover his lecture, and now it would seem he was stuck arguing with a pudding brain.

"I'm not a PE teacher – I'm Max's maths teacher," Danny sighed in frustration. He now knew where Max got his stubborn and grumpy attitude from. "I've been teaching him maths since the start of the term."

John stared at the man standing in front of him, trying to believe what he had just said. His mind just couldn't comprehend how the former soldier is a maths teacher. It made sense why his son has been sleeping a lot during his lessons - the man seems like a terrible teacher. On a side note, the doesn't look like somehow who studied maths at all. "I'm sorry, I just can't see it… I just can't."

Max, who had been sitting quietly, lowered his head as he tried his best to not grin. At least he knew his father felt the same way so hopefully, that meant he wasn't in a lot of trouble.

Mr Cook, the headmaster, who had heard the commotion coming from the office lounge, decided to intervene. He stepped out of his office and beckoned John to come in. "I think it would be better if I have a chat with Dr Smith, Mr Pink," the headmaster said, trying to control the situation.

Danny arched a brow. He didn't expect Max's father to be a doctor. His first impression of him was that he thought he was a former rock star of some sort with his loose tie and untucked shirt. Then again, it would explain why Max seems to be doing very well academically, despite not paying attention during his lessons.

The two adults glared at one another before John decided to break the eye contact. "Yes, I think that would be wise."

Ten minutes later, John Smith stepped out of the headmaster's office. Max couldn't tell if his father was angry or not.

"Let's go," his father said gently as the young man got to his feet and trailed behind.

The two ignored Danny who was standing in the corner of the room.

The journey home was a quiet affair and the moment John shut the door, he turned around and stared at his son who was trying to sneak upstairs.

"Max."

The teenager glanced at his father, feeling anxious.

"I know you don't like Mr Pink because he's a former soldier and reminds you of…," he couldn't bring himself to say it. "The past."

Max kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "It's not just that – he's boring and yells at everyone as if we're in the military."

John wasn't entirely sure what to say. He was just as guilty for being prejudice against soldiers. "Just ignore him – you're just months away from finishing A-level so focus on the future, yeah?"

His son nodded in silence before he walked upstairs.

"By the way, have you decided which uni you'll choose?"

It was a question he had been wanting to ask his son for a while now. Max had applied to Oxford and Warwick, as expected, but he had also applied to UCL. They haven't received any responses yet from the universities Max applied to, but John had pulled a few strings and found out that his son was offered a place at his university. He was thrilled of course, but half of him wanted him to stay while the other half reasoned the boy should get out of his comfort zone.

The truth was, John was terrified of being all by himself once his son starts university. They only had each other when Oswin died and now his son was all grown up. He was afraid of being alone.

"Shouldn't I wait until I get the letters before deciding?"

"Let's just assume you got accepted into all of them."

Max shrugged. "I don't know, dad – maybe I'll go to UCL or maybe I'll choose Oxford since I really like the university and Aunt Missy works there."

John nodded. "Alright, we'll talk about it once you're sure."

"Are you mad?"

"Mad?"

"About what happened at school."

He shook his head. "No, but I am disappointed you were rude to your teacher."

His dad was right. He should have behaved better than that, but he just couldn't help but hate his maths teacher. "It won't happen again."

* * *

The very next morning, Max and Bill were heading their way to the classroom where they will meet their new teacher.

"So what did dad say?" Bill asked casually.

The reason she was referring to John as 'dad' dated back to when they were children. She had just moved in and her first ever friend was Max. They spent lots of time together at each other's home that an accident became a habit of Bill calling her best friend's father 'dad'.

Max shrugged. "He wasn't angry, but he was disappointed."

"Ouch, you know he barely uses that word with you."

"Yes, Bill, I know," he said grumpily as they took their seats. To him, his father was his idol. The only person who cared, raised and loved him, aside from his aunt, when his mother died, sacrificing everything for his future. Disappointing his father was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I heard that the new teacher is named Oswald and she's from Coal Hill."

"Coal Hill?" Max repeated. "That's a pretty good school."

"Yeah, they say she's an awesome teacher," Bill added.

Max thought nothing of it and took out his notebook and stationery.

It was then the new teacher walked in and placed her bag on the front desk.

"Oh my God," Bill muttered under her breath.

The young man still had his head down as he was writing the date. When he looked up and saw the new teacher, he felt his heart stop beating. The pen fell out of his grasp and landed on the floor.

"Good morning," she said with a smile. "I'm Clara Oswald and I'm your new English teacher."

* * *

 _The tie scene was inspired by this one post I saw on Tumblr where there was a comparison of young Peter and present-time Peter tying his tie ;)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Let's see Max's reaction, shall we?_

* * *

Max stared at his new teacher with wide eyes full of shock. He was so surprised and taken by the teacher's resemblance to his mother that he didn't even realise his best friend was trying to get his attention until she slapped the back of his head.

"Ow," he growled.

"Sorry," Bill said. "You look like you were in a completely different world."

"Where's my pen?" he said, looking for it.

Bill reached down and grabbed the stationery. She placed it on his desk. "You dropped it."

He said nothing as he took it, avoiding eye contact.

"Are you alright?"

Max didn't say a word as his mind was trying to comprehend what was going on. It must be some sort of nightmare. He was in a nightmare. His new teacher looked exactly like his mother. She may have died over a decade ago, but he still remembered what she looks and sounds like. It was seared into his mind and heart.

"Before we get started, why don't I get to know each and every single one of you, and we can start by taking attendance," Clara said as she pulled out a list. "James Andrews?"

"Here."

He wasn't entirely sure what he felt. Sick? Scared? Shocked? She sounded like his mother. Granted, the accent was different, but they sounded the same nonetheless.

"Max, you alright?" Bill asked again.

He nodded silently, head still looking down at his notebook. He couldn't bear to look up and face his teacher. It's not his mother. He kept repeating that in his mind. It's someone who looks like his mum.

"Bill Potts?"

"Here," she answered. Sooner or later, their new teacher would call out Max's name. "Mate, just breathe – continue breathing and just relax when she calls your name."

"Max Smith?" Clara said, waiting for one of her students to raise their hand. She received no response. "Is he absent or…"

"He's right here," Bill said quickly. "Just unwell – got a fever."

Clara lowered the sheet of paper she held. "Oh, well, if that's the case, does he need to go to the health centre?"

She found it odd how the young man never made a single sound or looked in her direction. It was as if he was avoiding her intentionally. "Mr Smith?"

"I'm fine," he said quietly, looking down at his feet.

"If you need help, just raise your hand," the teacher said gently before looking back at the list. That was it. Twenty students. "Right, Mr Armitage said you left off at Dracula, is that correct?"

There was a murmur of agreement from her students.

"And John Harker was the last character you discussed, according to this note," Clara stated as she wrote down the title of the literature on the whiteboard.

The lesson went on smoothly for everyone except for Max and Bill so by the time the lesson was over, they were the first to leave their desks, but Clara had other plans.

"Mr Smith, may I have a word with you?" she said.

Max exchanged looks with Bill before he slowly approached his teacher's desk. He hid his hands in the pockets of his trousers as he stood in his spot with his head lowered while Clara cleared the board.

She turned around and her smile disappeared when she saw that her student wasn't looking at her. "Max?"

He forced himself to look up, trying his best to act normal. Upon closer inspection, he realised that while Miss Oswald looked quite similar to his mother, there were differences. The nose was slightly different, the colour of her eyes was a tad darker, and his teacher sounds like she's from northern England.

"Mr Armitage showed me your essay on Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde," she began, silently wondering why her student looked as if he was going to run out of the classroom at any given moment. "There's a writing competition being held right now so would you be interested in submitting your work?"

He nodded in agreement. Whatever it took to get him out of the room as quick as possible. "Yes."

His teacher smiled. "Great, I'll let the school know."

Again, Max nodded. "May I leave?" he asked awkwardly.

He was definitely a strange young man. Why on earth was he staring at her as if she just came back from the dead? "Yes, of course."

Silently, he made his way to the exit and shut the door, leaving the English teacher all by herself in the empty classroom.

Clara let out a breath of relief. She was glad her first day of teaching at her new school went smoothly aside from the weird looks she received from Max.

What surprised her more, however, was when she found out her ex-boyfriend also works here. She had broken up with Danny over two-years ago and a year after, he had moved to a different school in Wales. She was unaware that he was back in London.

The universe must really hate her to have put her in the same school as her ex.

* * *

"Are you going to tell dad what happened?" Bill asked as they waited for the tube later that day.

Max had been thinking about it all day long. Should he mention it to his father? Would there be any relevance mentioning it to him? He knew his father was still mourning. He could still remember the sobs he heard coming from the master bedroom, late at night when he couldn't sleep. When the wounds were still fresh. He didn't want his father to get hurt.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not sure if there's any relevance to it."

Bill knew it wasn't her place to sway him from one decision to the other. so she kept her peace. "Well, do whatever you think is right."

Max granted his best friend a sad smile. "Thanks, Bill."

When Max stepped into his home, he had expected the house to be empty but was surprised to hear a commotion coming from the kitchen. "Dad?"

"Yep," John answered, taking out a can of coke from the fridge.

"You're home early," Max commented as he tossed his jacket and bag on the chair before lying down on the sofa and grabbing the remote.

His father walked into the living room, carrying several sheets of paper and a notebook. "It's Wednesday, remember?"

"Ah, right," he stated automatically. He felt his father pat his knee, trying to get his attention.

"These came in the mail today," he said, producing two letters and handed them to him.

Max immediately sat up. He hadn't checked his application online for a few days now. Warwick and UCL. He looked at his father nervously.

"Go on, open it," John laughed, settling down next to his son. "You have nothing to worry about."

The teenager decided to check his Warwick letter first. He opened the small envelope with shaky hands before unfolding the paper.

"I got offered a place."

Max and John grinned at each other before the younger Smith hugged his father.

"See, like I said, there was nothing for you to worry about."

He then checked the letter from UCL and the grin returned. "Same got offered a place, though I suspect you knew this."

John ruffled his son's hair. "Sarah was the admissions tutor so all I had to do was ask."

"Yeah, but I'm still going to wait until I get a response from Oxford before I make my decision."

"Fair enough," the father said and decided to change the subject. "So how was school?"

Max paused for a second before he answered, "Uh, fine, Mr Armitage moved to a different school, so we met our new teacher today and I didn't fall asleep during Mr Pink's lesson."

"That's great," he murmured, standing up. "Keep doing what you're doing, and you'll be just fine – congratulations, again."

Max beamed. "Thanks, dad – you should congratulate yourself too."

John returned the smile. Oswin would be so proud of him if she was here with them right now. He could imagine her being so happy, hugging her son and kissing him as if he was still a little boy.

* * *

Clara Oswald stifled a yawn as she went through her students' reports. Since barely knew them, so she had thought it would be a good idea to find out more about their academic performance in order for her to get a better idea of improving her teaching methods. The students were a mixed bag. Some were doing well, some average and some were struggling. She made a mental note to give extra attention to her students who were lagging behind.

She put away the file she had finished reading and moved on to the last one. The name printed on the file was 'Max Smith'. She had heard a lot about him from her colleagues.

His Physics and Further Maths teachers had nothing but praise for him. Well-behaved, intelligent and submits his work on time.

Clara had also discovered that Danny taught him Maths and that was when the conversation steered elsewhere.

Danny and Max did not get along. Nobody had any idea why but maybe she could figure it out.

She opened the file and scanned through his transcripts. Bright. Extremely bright. He didn't have any disciplinary issues aside from being sent to the headmaster's office once for falling asleep too many times during Danny's lessons. And fairly recently too.

Clara wouldn't say she wasn't having problems with her student. Max was behaving strangely around her and he was slightly different compared to what her colleagues had told her about him.

He was avoiding her completely and she was worried it might affect his academic performance so maybe she should have a proper chat with him. She is his teacher after all.

The next day, during her lesson, Clara was surprised to see that Max wasn't acting as strange as he did the previous week. Sure, he was still avoiding looking directly at her, but he seems to be paying attention and even answered a question.

Maybe Bill was right and that he was just unwell.

The initial shock Max had experienced when meeting his new teacher had subsided. If anything, he could only see his mother whenever he looked at her and strangely enough, it made him a bit happy. His first impression of Miss Oswald is that she's kind but can be strict with her students if need be. Just like his mother.

When he was a child, he would always wish for his mother to come back. It was silly. He made the same wish for every birthday until after he was twelve when he came to the conclusion that birthday wishes do not come true. It's funny to think that in a way, he eventually got his wish.

He was curious. Is Miss Oswald related to his mother? It would explain the resemblance. He needed to do a bit of research.

"I expect you to hand-in the essay first thing Monday morning after the second period," Max heard the teacher say. The bell rang. "See you next week."

Once again, Max and Bill were the first to leave their desks.

Clara packed her things and left the classroom, returning to the teacher's lounge. It was her third week at her new workplace and she has yet to have a conversation with Danny. They only exchanged polite remarks. Was he avoiding her on purpose?

She went to the break room to make herself a cup of tea after putting away the exercise sheets that needed to be marked.

The English teacher then felt a pair of eyes staring at her and she turned around.

"Clara."

"Danny," she said politely.

"How's the new workplace?" he asked, opening a cupboard.

"Same old, same old," she answered. "Some kids are easier to teach than others."

Danny nodded silently before he grabbed a mug. "Mr Smith not causing trouble?"

She didn't like the tone of his voice. "No, he's been very well-behaved and seems very bright," she explained. "Hardly makes a sound."

"Lucky you," he said. "He's been a nightmare to deal with."

"How so?" she asked in curiosity. "Everyone here seems to have nothing but praise for him."

"That's because his dad is good friends with the headmaster."

It still didn't make sense.

"I don't see how any of that has to do with Max," Clara stated, crossing her arms. "Look, I know the both of you don't get along-"

"He doesn't get along with me," Danny corrected.

"Maybe you should try to talk to him."

The former soldier huffed. "I tried but he wouldn't even want to be within close proximity."

Clara poured her tea. "He's a teenager – all boys his age act like a rebel."

Danny said nothing. She had no idea how difficult it was for him. "Trust me, you haven't seen what he's like when he drops the halo on his head."

She arched a brow. "And what exactly did he do?"

"Sleeps during my lessons, challenges my authority, doesn't pay attention," Danny listed. "And worst of all is he's still the top of his class."

Max doesn't seem like the sort of person who liked to be yelled at. Her first impression of him is that the only way to get through him was to talk gently.

"Maybe you should stop treating him like a fellow soldier."

Danny frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You seem to have this tone when addressing the students during PE and dealing with troublemakers."

"If that's the case, then everyone would act like Max," the maths teacher retorted.

She was getting tired of the conversation. It was clear Danny was still attached to his military roots and that was probably what set off the student.

Silently, Clara grabbed her mug and made her way back to her desk. She was surprised at how well the conversation with her ex had gone. Maybe it wasn't as awkward as she thought.

Her thoughts circled back to her student. There was something about him that intrigued her. He had this sadness in his eyes which she couldn't quite explain.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Ready for John to meet Clara? ;) Enjoy!_

* * *

" _We are not naming our son Euler," Oswin giggled as she snuggled her husband on the sofa._

 _The married couple had been in a discussion, for the last twenty minutes, over the name of their first child._

" _Well, why not?" John asked, wrapping his arms around his wife. "He's going to be the coolest kid in school – Euler Smith."_

" _One, that sounds horrible and two, people will tease him for having a name that sounds like oil."_

 _John pursed his lips, playing with her hair. "But he's going to be named after the greatest mathematician in history."_

 _She arched a brow. "No, Gauss is."_

" _We're not naming our son Gauss."_

 _Oswin laughed. "No, we're not – I don't think it suits him."_

 _Her husband racked his brain for another suggestion. "I have a feeling you're going to say no to Gottfried and for the record, Gauss isn't the greatest mathematician in history."_

" _You guessed correctly," she said. "And don't you dare say Galois."_

 _He stared at his wife in disbelief. "Why not – he's the father of Group Theory!"_

 _His wife looked straight at him. "He died after succumbing to his wounds thanks to a duel, at the age of twenty, so no."_

" _Oh, yes, that," John grumbled. Why was this so difficult? They were just choosing a name. "Max Noether?"_

 _Oswin thought about it for a moment. "Max Smith - Maximus Smith has a nice catch to it."_

" _So it's settled then, his first name?" he asked hopefully._

" _Yeah, I guess… I can't believe it took us this long to figure out his name," she said. "Oh!"_

" _What's wrong?" John asked in concern before his wife grabbed his hand and placed it on her swollen belly._

" _He's kicking."_

 _He smiled when he felt the kick. "I guess that's a yes from the man himself."_

" _I told you it wasn't that hard," Oswin said as she kissed him._

"Dad," Max said, knocking on the bedroom door. "Dad."

John opened his eyes and immediately sat upright. "Yeah," he answered, checking the time. 9:45 AM.

"I'm just popping to Bill's – we're going to revise for a few hours," his son said behind the door.

He rubbed his eyes. "Alright, don't work too hard."

"Yep!"

Once he was sure Max was gone, he lied back down. His dream was pleasant this time. It was rare, but it was a welcoming change compared to those horrible nightmares he kept having.

He wondered if it will ever stop. It was tiring. It was taking a toll on his body. All John asked for was a proper sleep.

Then again, it was his fault his wife died, so he couldn't blame anyone but himself. Hence, the nightmares.

John wished he had a time machine. He wished he could travel back to the past and stop his wife from being killed. He would do anything to save her.

The time was now 9:50. His sister would be here soon. There was no reason for Missy to travel all the way to London, but if she persists, there wasn't really much room for him to argue. He knew she only did it to make sure they were fine. It was kind of her, but it's been 12 years now so she really didn't have to go through the trouble.

* * *

"We're not here because you found out whether I got accepted or not into Oxford, right?" Max asked his Aunt Missy as he took a bite of appetizer. He was hoping she could tell him something about his application.

"No, I came down here because your dad recently got his professorship so that obviously calls for a celebration," Missy explained. "And because I needed to fatten you two hopeless skeletons."

They were dining at an Italian restaurant located just about twenty minutes away from home. Missy had called her brother a day earlier to tell them she was visiting and taking them out for dinner. Ever since the incident, she had taken the habit of visiting her brother and nephew every few months or so to make sure they were alright.

John glared at his sister. "I'm treating my son well."

"Yes, I know and can clearly see that," she replied. "But it never hurts to treat your family to dinner."

"You do realise you look like a skeleton, too, right?" Max said jokingly with a grin. "It runs in the family."

"Hush nephew or I'll reject your application."

"You're not the admissions tutor."

Missy smiled evilly. "I can still pull a few strings."

Her nephew chuckled. "Any chance you can find out if I got accepted?"

"My advice to you would be to wait patiently," she replied casually.

They continued eating and half-way through, Max excused himself to go to the restroom. Missy took the opportunity to talk to her brother.

"I checked his application – they're offering him a place - St Peter's," she said. "I think it'll be good for Max to get out of his comfort zone a bit and experience the campus life."

John was still torn. Half of him wanted the best for his son while the other half was selfish and didn't want Max to be far away from him. "I think that's up to him – UCL is just as good."

His sister knew the reluctance he felt but decided not to push it. Sometimes, she wished he would find someone but it's very unlikely to happen with him still clinging on to the memory of his late wife.

"I'm just saying, a bit of independence goes a long way," she explained carefully. "I know you're probably thinking that you'll end up all by yourself."

"Don't push it."

"Maybe you should finally find someone again."

John gave his sister a look which could only be described as anger. "No."

There was no one in his head aside from Oswin. He just couldn't bring himself to love another woman. To him, it felt as if he was betraying his wife.

Missy decided it was best not to push her brother any longer. It was a sensitive issue after all and she was walking on thin ice now.

As Max stepped out of the restroom and headed his way back to the table, he stopped dead in his tracks when he locked eyes with the person standing in front of him.

"Max," Clara said with a kind smile. "What a coincidence to see you here."

He immediately looked everyone else but her. His eyes caught sight of his aunt who was staring at them blankly. Luckily, his father's back was facing them so all he had to do was end the conversation as quickly as possible.

"Yes," he said quietly, as he kept glancing at Missy's direction.

Clara turned around and smiled. "Dining with your parents?"

"Dad and aunt," he corrected, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He prayed his father wouldn't start looking around.

Clara wasn't entirely sure what else she should say. Her student clearly wasn't one for small talk, but she found it odd and funny that she had bumped into her most awkward pupil. Out of thousands of restaurants in London, her father had decided to dine here.

"Well, enjoy the rest of your evening," she murmured, heading for the ladies' room.

"You too."

The teenager then rushed back to where his family was. His strange behaviour didn't go unnoticed.

"You alright, son?" John asked, frowning. "You're sweating."

As the boy opened his mouth to make up a lie, his aunt beat him to it.

"I saw that cute waitress over there flirting with him," Missy said, nodding to a waitress who was standing in a corner. She looked to be in her late teens.

John turned around briefly. "What did you say?" he asked curiously, grinning.

Max shrugged. "Nothing."

Missy then teased her nephew. "Honestly, you should have said something – it'll be good practice unless you already have a girlfriend."

Her nephew blushed. "I don't have a girlfriend."

It was true, but he wished he had one. He didn't have a girlfriend because he was terrible at flirting and talking to girls other than Bill, of course.

His father raised his eyebrows. "Wait, you don't?"

Now Max was also confused. "No, dad, I don't… why did you assume I have a girlfriend?"

"I thought you and Bill were an item."

The teenager laughed. "Dad, you got it wrong."

"Isn't this interesting," Missy said sarcastically.

"Bill isn't interested," he explained.

John found it hard to imagine that the two weren't dating considering how close they were. He had thought they were a cute couple. "That's a shame."

"No, dad, she's not interested in… you know… guys."

It finally clicked. "Oh… Oh, that makes sense now."

Max chuckled. "Yeah."

The moment John looked away, the young man glanced at his aunt and gave her a grateful look. It would seem that he had some explaining to do since he was sure his aunt is curious.

* * *

It was around an hours before midnight when Max Smith quietly stuck his head out of his room and looked both ways before stepping out. His aunt hadn't had the chance to interrogate him just yet, but he knew she would at any moment since his father would usually be asleep at around this time.

He tip-toed to the guest bedroom before he felt someone tapping his shoulder, spooking him.

Missy immediately placed a finger to her lips and nodded at the stairs.

"Was it just me or did I see you talking to your mother at the restaurant?" she asked quietly once they settled in the kitchen.

"It wasn't your imagination," Max replied. "That was my English teacher, Miss Oswald."

She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the woman who looked so much like her brother's late wife. She had initially thought her mind was playing tricks on her.

"Does your father know?"

"No, and I intend to keep it that way."

"You do realise you can't hide this from him forever."

The teenager frowned. "Yes, I can and what relevance is there mentioning this to dad?"

Missy rolled her eyes. "I'm not saying you should, but have you forgotten about the parent-teacher meeting?" she stated. "You father told me how excited he was to hear praises from your teachers aside from that one teacher you hate so much – Mr Purple?"

"Pink," he corrected with a hint of hatred. He had completely forgotten about the upcoming meeting.

"I think it's good for your father to meet this teacher of yours," she commented. "You seem to turn out fine."

Max pursed his lips. He doubted his father would react well. He would probably get upset. "I just… I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"Max, your dad is an old man, he can handle himself."

He wasn't really looking forward to his father meeting his English teacher but if he couldn't stop it, he might as well be there for him. "Fine," he said in resignation. Maybe his aunt had a point. Sooner or later, his father would find out.

"Now that that's taken care of, I'd advice you to check your Oxford application tomorrow," she stated casually, changing the subject.

The teenager's face lit up. "You know, don't you?"

"I'm not one for spoilers so you're just going to have to be patient and whatever the outcome is, just remember you still have offers from Warwick and UCL."

Max smiled. "Yeah, thanks, Aunt Missy."

* * *

The drive to school was a quiet affair. The day of the parent-teacher meeting had finally arrived and while Max would have preferred his father not attending, there was not much he could do anymore.

"You're very quiet today," John commented as he had his eyes fixed on the road. It was about a ten-minute drive to school and they always chatted about something whenever he had the chance to drop his son off. "Are you nervous?"

The young man who was seated in the passenger seat shook his head. "No, just sleepy," he lied. "Stayed up late playing that new video game you got me."

When John had found out his son was offered a place at Oxford, he was thrilled, as any parent should be, and a week later, Max received a copy of the latest video game he kept mentioning to him.

"It's a lot of fun, yeah?"

"Yep," he confirmed. "Spent the first hour just exploring the map."

The father smiled as he pulled into the parking area and found a spot in the corner.

They were the first few people to arrive that morning so that they could avoid waiting for a long period of time.

Another vehicle parked a few metres away from them and a moment later, Bill and her mother stepped out.

She gave her best friend a sympathetic look and mouthed 'it's ok' to him before she saw John and said, "Hey, dad!"

"Hi, Bill, Miss Potts," John replied.

"John, Max," Moira said. "You two look like you're ready to go in there."

Joke of the century.

"Hey Max, can I talk to you – we'll catch up with you guys," Bill said as she pulled him away from his father. Once they were out of earshot, she spoke again. "Listen, mate, I know you're scared, but I think the worst that could happen is dad just feeling shocked."

"If I'm completely honest, I have no idea what his reaction is going to be like," Max stated. "And then there's Mr Pink – I just hope they don't end up in a staring contest."

His hatred for Danny Pink had only gotten worse when he overheard a few students talking about Miss Oswald and Mr Pink. Apparently, they had dated each other back when they were working at the same school.

"Just try to control that temper of yours, yeah?"

Max nodded in silence before they made their way to the school hall where John was standing in front of the entrance, waiting for his son. There was no sign of Miss Oswald anywhere yet. Mr Pink either.

Bill gave her best friend a supportive look before she stepped inside where her mother was waiting for her.

"Do you think we can skip talking to Mr Pink altogether?" John asked.

Max chuckled as he finally relaxed. "I don't think that's possible, dad since we have to move from one desk to the other."

"We'll just deal with it then," the older Smith said before the corner of his eyes caught sight of someone walking towards them. He glanced to his right and felt his heart skip a beat.

"Hello, Max, you and your father are here early," Clara commented with a smile, shifting the documents she was carrying in her hands a bit.

Max said nothing when he noticed the look on his father's face. Bloody hell. "Dad."

She then turned to John, about to introduce herself when she too realised her student's father was staring at her with wide eyes. It was filled with the same sadness she saw in Max.

"Oswin," John murmured, not believing his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Enjoy! :)_

* * *

Max reacted quickly by grabbing his father's arm. "I'm sorry, Miss Oswald, but I think my dad needs some fresh air – come along, dad," he said hastily as he dragged John away.

The university lecturer still had his eyes glued to Clara until they were finally outside and away from the school hall.

"Dad, dad," the teenager said as he tried to get his father's attention who was spacing out.

"That was… that was your mum," John murmured, running a hand through his silver curls. "I wasn't the only one who saw her, right?"

"No, dad, you weren't hallucinating," his son answered quietly, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his trousers. "I think you should sit down…"

"No, I'm fine," he insisted, despite his mind being haywire. He began playing with the wedding band on his finger. "Why… how come you've never mentioned this to me?"

Max avoided eye contact as he said nothing. Just like his father, he didn't like expressing his feelings in public.

"I'm your dad, Max," John stated quietly. "I don't need my own son to protect me."

"Maybe we should just leave," the teenager suggested.

"No, we're not going to do that, hey, look at me."

He felt his father place a hand on his shoulder before he looked up.

"I was just surprised at how much your English teacher resembled your mum," John lied expertly, hiding his pain behind a smile. "We didn't come here for nothing."

"Are you sure you're ok?" the young man asked.

"Absolutely," he replied. "Let's go back inside."

Max did not utter a single word as he saw Clara walking towards them.

John swallowed the lump in his throat. He was starting to wonder if he had died at some point and was now in his personal hell. Maybe he was being punished for letting his wife die.

"Max, Mr Smith, is everything alright?" she asked, eyes full of concern. "I'm sorry if I said something that upset you."

The school teacher had heard her student's father referring to her as 'Oswin' and the thought had been plaguing her mind since. Maybe she had reminded him of someone? It would explain Max's strange behaviour around her.

Clara's voice sounded like music to John's ears. It was almost identical to his wife but with a different accent. How missed her dearly. He cleared his throat. "Yes, everything's fine – I just needed some fresh air."

She stared at them for a moment before she decided to drop the subject. It wasn't her business. "Well, the meeting is about to start soon so I'll see you then?"

"Yes," the two Smiths replied.

Clara and John were staring intently at one another before the teacher broke eye contact, gave them a polite smile and returned to the hall.

Once she was out of earshot, John turned to his son. "She looks and sounds like your mum."

"That's what I thought, too," confirmed the young man. "But it's not mum," he said with a sad tone.

The elder Smith glanced at the English teacher once more, watching as she entered the building. It's not his wife. "Ready to go back inside?"

"I should be the one asking you that, dad," Max said as he felt slightly better now. At least the worst was over. Aunt Missy was right. Everything turned out ok. Though, he couldn't help but wonder why his dad and teacher were looking at each other in an odd way.

John ruffled his son's curly hair, earning a groan from the boy. "I'm looking forward to meeting Mr Chesterton and Miss Wright again."

"Dad, don't do that in public," Max grumbled, fixing his hair.

His father grinned as they entered the hall and took their seats. "Well, why not?"

"I'm not a little boy anymore," the teenager said.

His lips formed a small smile. Max will always be his son, his little boy regardless of how old he is. "Alright, I won't ruin your hair in case you're trying to impress a girl."

"I wish it was that easy," Max mumbled before he caught sight of Bill staring at him a few feet away. He gave her a subtle thumbs-up. She nodded before turning around.

The hall was now full of people and some parents had already started talking to the teachers.

While they were waiting for their turn, John kept stealing glances at Clara. It was rude. He knew that, but it was hard not to. When she turned and looked straight at his direction, he immediately looked down at his phone, ears burning.

As expected, Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright had nothing but praise for their favourite student. Max was excelling in their respective classes, so they didn't have much to say aside from advising him to keep up his good work.

Danny Pink, however, had other things to say.

Max nearly burst out laughing when he noticed that his father was in full attack eyebrows mode.

They took their seat in front of the former soldier who had an annoyed look on his face. "Dr Smith, Max."

"Mr Pink," John acknowledged. He just wanted to get it over with.

"I don't have much to say about your son," Danny explained. "He stopped falling asleep after you were called in and I'm sure you know he's been doing well academically."

John felt tempted to cross his arms. "You make it sound as if my son is struggling in other areas."

"As a matter of fact, he is," the teacher began.

Oh boy.

"He refuses to listen to anything I say during PE."

"You said you weren't a PE teacher."

Danny leaned back against his seat. "I'm covering for a colleague who's on personal leave for three weeks."

It was only PE. Not a military exercise. "I thought you were supposed to play whatever sport you like in PE."

"Some prefer to just sit around doing nothing, so I tell them to march."

What a bloody moron.

John glanced at his son who was glaring at Danny. "I'm sorry, but as far as I'm aware, this isn't military school."

He stood up and his son mirrored his move. Max was relieved it was finally over.

"I think we're done here since you seem to be keen on discussing PE rather than my son's academic performance."

"Like father, like son," Danny muttered under his breath.

Before they left, John quietly said, "Maybe you should get that soldier mentality out of your head and remind yourself that you're working with teenagers and not cadets."

Danny sat at his desk feeling slightly embarrassed after being told off.

Clara had been observing the ordeal after she had finished chatting with a student's parents and wondered if Danny still had issues with Max. His father and Danny were talking for quite a while until she saw father and son approaching her desk.

She smiled kindly when her student and his father sat down.

"Hi," John greeted awkwardly.

She opened the file in front of her which had been labelled 'Maximus Dougan Smith'.

"I don't really have much to say about Max," she commented, looking at his results even though she didn't have to. She knew most of her students' academic strengths and weaknesses. "Almost two months of knowing him, I'd say he's well on his way to get an A or even an A* if he works a bit harder."

John smiled proudly at his son. "That's good to hear."

"Though I do catch him daydreaming sometimes."

Max blushed while his father scratched the back of his head.

"Boy will be boys," he said, laughing awkwardly. That was a lame excuse.

There it was again. The teacher and the father were staring at each other intently as she explained her student's recent exam result.

The teenager felt uncomfortable. What was going on? He never felt so clueless in his entire life.

"Though his marks in text analysis are slightly lower compared to the rest," Clara explained.

John listened carefully while he began to notice how attractive Miss Oswald is. It made sense since she looked like Oswin, so there was nothing for him to feel guilty about.

Clara couldn't really explain it but there was just something adorable about Mr Smith. Maybe it was due to his shyness and how he kept listening to everything she said first before making any sort of comment. Either way, she should stop before she says something regrets. Besides, this man is still her student's father. She broke eye contact and beamed at her student. "With a bit of practice, Max will be fine."

"Yeah, Max kept complaining the last bit was always a bit more difficult," John agreed.

Max, on the other hand, kept staring back and forth between his father and teacher. He had a hunch. A small hunch that the two of them were somewhat attracted to one another and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

* * *

"They were… they had this look in their eyes," Max explained to his best friend as he paced around her room.

Bill started laughing. "Maybe you were just imagining it."

"You should have seen it, Bill and I'm serious."

"Mate, I was busy getting roasted by my mum – I wouldn't be able to see London Bridge even if it was right there in front of me."

The young man gave her a confused look. "Why was your mum roasting you?"

"In a nutshell, Mr Pink said I was your partner in crime."

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled before sinking down on the edge of the bed. "At least dad told him off."

"Yeah, I could tell dad said something when I saw the look on his face," she agreed. "What did he say?"

"Something along the lines of he's teaching teenagers and not cadets so he should get rid of his soldier mentality."

Bill laughed again. "So that's why he looks so flustered, but to be honest, Mr Pink isn't that bad if you get rid of his soldier side."

Max glanced at his best friend. "Which is why he got told off – anyway, back to my problem."

"Is your dad and teacher dating a problem?"

"Bill!"

"What?" she answered. "I mean, if it makes dad happy, then why not – we're going to finish school in a couple of months anyway."

In her personal opinion, Bill Potts thought Max's father and Miss Oswald should go on a date. Maybe Mr Smith would finally be able to move on with the help of someone who looks like his wife. Ok, wait. That sounded rubbish, but the idea was still good. The point is, he would be happy, but it also falls down to Max. Would he approve of it?

Max pondered for a moment. He didn't like the idea of his father dating other women back when he was a child. He remembered Aunt Missy advising his father to get himself back out on the market. It backfired, no surprise. He had gone out on a date with a woman by the name of River Song and boy, did Max hate, no, despise her.

His impression of her is that she wasn't serious about being committed or even serious at anything. His younger, 12-year-old-self had expressed his disdain to his father as soon as he returned home from the date.

That was the late time John Smith ever went on a date. One, because he was still very much in love with his wife and two, the date went horribly wrong. He and River didn't have much in common and she confessed she didn't like the idea of children.

Now that Max was older, he wasn't as sensitive on the topic of his father dating someone.

Nonetheless, John never tried dating again. Instead, he had chosen to give all the love he had for his only son.

"I'm confused," Max confessed.

Bill put down her pen and sat down next to her best friend. "Do you want dad to be happy?"

"Of course, more than anything else in the world."

"Then this might do the trick."

"What, dad and Miss Oswald – together?" he said sceptically.

Bill smirked. "You'd be surprised at how well two people can click."

* * *

If someone were to say that Clara Oswald was a curious person, then she would definitely agree. She had been curious since at a very young age, and she still was to this very day so when she heard Max's father refer to her as 'Oswin', she became curious.

What intrigued her, even more, was when her colleagues started chatting about Max and Mr Smith at the end of the parent-teacher meeting.

"Is it just me or am I the only one who noticed that it's always Max's father who comes to the meeting?" said one of the teachers.

"No, everyone has been wondering the same thing for a while now," said Ian Chesterton. "But I think Mr Curry once mentioned his mother passed away when he was a child."

"Oh, poor thing."

Clara, who was minding her own business, couldn't help but eavesdrop a bit.

"I think she was involved in a car accident of some sort."

She felt sorry for her student as she knew the feeling of losing a mother all too well. Maybe that was why Max had been acting so strange around her. Did she remind him of his mother? Is that why Mr Smith had the same reaction, too?

There was only one way to find out.

The moment Clara returned to her flat, she switched on her laptop and opened a web browser. She wasn't privy about other people's lives but there was something about Max and his father that piqued her curiosity.

She paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing 'Oswin Smith'.

The first result showed an article which was titled ' _Pregnant Mother Dies In Drunk Driving Accident_ '.

Clara placed a hand to her mouth before she found the courage to click on the article. It explained that Oswin had died 12 years ago after being hit by a drunk driver on a Saturday afternoon. The man was an off-duty soldier who was on his way home when he killed the poor woman.

She couldn't continue reading any longer and closed her laptop. The school teacher found her answers. Well, some of it. She couldn't find any pictures of Oswin. The question now is, what was she going to do with them?


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! :) Let's see what happens now that Clara found out about John and Max's past ;)_

* * *

 _'And sometimes in darkness, I dream that you are there but wake, holding nothing but the cold night air' – Til I Hear You Sing_

" _Where would you like to travel to this year?" John asked his wife, who had her head rested on his bare chest._

" _Anywhere is fine," Oswin answered, tracing circles on his chest. "Though, I've always wanted to visit Italy."_

 _Her husband smiled as he kissed her hair. "Italy?" he said. "Do you have a specific place in mind?"_

" _Milan?" she said hopefully._

 _John smiled as he caressed her arm. "I'm sure that can be arranged – maybe we could travel there during the Easter break?"_

" _The weather is just nice at that time of year," she commented, kissing his chest before pulling away from him._

" _Hey, I'm not done with you yet," her husband chuckled as he tried reaching for her, admiring every inch of her body with his eyes._

 _Oswin grabbed the robe hanging on a chair before putting it on. "I'm going to check on Max – he tends to wake up around this time."_

" _He's sleeping," he said, climbing out of bed and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Let's go back to bed, yeah?" he said huskily, kissing her neck._

" _Behave yourself, John Smith," his wife giggled, freeing herself from his embrace. "I have to go."_

 _He frowned reaching for her. "What do you mean you have to go?"_

 _And just like that, Oswin disappeared from his sights._

" _Oswin!" he screamed. "Oswin!"_

John sat up and gasped, breathing heavily. He took a moment to collect himself. It felt so real. Well, the memory was real except for the last one. His wife didn't disappear out of thin air.

His t-shirt felt damp. Had he been sweating? That was new. He leaned against the headboard before reaching for his phone and checking the time. 4:52 AM.

No point going to back to sleep because he knew he couldn't. Besides, a cold shower would do him good. John drew the covers and made his way to the bathroom.

By the time he was dressed, it was almost half-five.

Silently, he made his way to the study and switched on the laptop to check his emails, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

It kept circling around a certain English teacher. Why did she look so similar to Oswin? A part of him wanted to get to know her better while the other part told him to stay away, keep his distance, save himself the trouble of getting himself hurt. It wasn't Oswin no matter how similar Miss Oswald resembled her.

Somehow, John had a feeling he wouldn't be able to resist for long.

* * *

Clara Oswald made a mental note to have a chat with Max as soon as her lesson was over. She had received word that Danny complained to the headmaster Max was now outright refusing to listen to anything to he said. He wasn't even paying attention during maths lesson.

Instead, the young man preferred to do his own work while Danny was teaching.

The headmaster had made the decision to settle the issue internally first before he would have to resort to calling Dr Smith to come to school again which was why he had asked Clara, as Max's personal tutor, to speak to him first.

She had an advantage now and wouldn't go in blind.

"The next essay is due on Thursday so feel free to hand it in during the lesson or to me at my office."

As soon as the bell rang, she stayed put, by her desk, eyeing Max carefully. He seemed a lot more relaxed now compared to when they first met so that was a good sign. "Max," she called.

He looked in her direction. "Yes?"

"Could I have a word with you?"

Bill and Max exchanged looks before Clara heard him say, "I'll see you at the library."

The young man approached her desk and waited until everybody else was gone. Clara shut the door and placed a hand on her hip. "I think you know why you're here."

He furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry, I don't."

She gestured at the empty seat and the boy sat down.

"Max," she began as she leaned against the desk. She needed to choose her words carefully as to not give away her advantage since she wanted her student to open up. "Is there a reason why you dislike Mr Pink?"

His facial expression morphed into that of hatred at the mention of his maths teacher. Clara felt sorry his mother died but that didn't give him the right to be prejudiced against all soldiers.

Her student remained silent, avoiding eye contact. His hands were gripping the edge of the table.

"Max, it's alright," Clara said gently. "This is just going to be between us."

"I don't like soldiers," he confessed quietly, the memories flooding his mind. She could barely hear him speak. "I hate it when Mr Pink treats everyone as if we're in military school."

"Is there a reason why you hate soldiers?" she asked. She would have to deal with Danny another time. She did warn him not to bring his soldier mentality to work.

Max shook as he remembered the look on the killer's face. That stupid look. He looked up and stared at his teacher with nothing but sadness in his eyes.

"Did you lose someone because of them?"

He nodded in silence.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Clara asked.

He blinked. Talk about his mum?

Max realised that this was something he had never discussed with his father. They never talked about her death. Never touched the subject. He never addressed it. Neither of them ever did. They just kept it locked away.

"Max?"

The young man snapped out of his thoughts and silently gazed at his teacher. "Mum."

"Losing someone you love is part of parcel of living," Clara explained. She thought it was best to share her experiences first before she could get him to talk. "I lost my mum back when I was in secondary school."

Looks like she finally caught his full attention.

"She died when I was fourteen and I didn't take it very well for the first few years after her death," she said. "But eventually, I realised I couldn't live like that forever."

He wanted to know how she was able to move on. "What did you do?"

Clara smiled. "I kept moving forward – doing the things I love and knowing that she was proud of me."

"Does it get better – the pain?"

"It will always be there, Max," she answered. "The pain never really goes away but that doesn't mean you should let it dictate you and your future – I'm sure your mother would want to see you happy."

Max felt as if he was talking to his mother at that moment. The gentle tone of her voice and how she told him to carry on. The last bit never really crossed his mind.

He seemed a lot less tense. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah."

The English teacher gave him a kind smile. "Great," she murmured, pushing herself against the desk. She could talk to him about his hatred for soldiers some other time. "Can I count on you to behave during Mr Pink's lessons?"

"Only if he stops treating us like we're in the military."

Clara pondered for a moment. "I'll talk to him – that reminds me, there's going to be a tutorial session on Friday which focuses on text analysis – would you like to join?"

"Yeah."

"Great, I'll see you tomorrow."

Max got to his feet, a small smile playing at his lips. "Thanks, mum," he murmured, unaware he had addressed his teacher as his mother.

She was too stunned to have corrected him, so she decided to let it go. It was an honest mistake, after all.

* * *

Clara sat behind her desk, marking her students' essays when she saw, from the corner of her eyes, Danny Pink striding into the teacher's lounge. She immediately set down the red pen she was holding and walked towards her colleague's desk.

"Danny, can I talk to you in private for a moment?"

They decided to talk in the currently empty break room.

"I had a chat with Max earlier today," she began. "And is it true you still treat your students like cadets?"

Danny shook his head. "Are you on his side or mine?"

Clara frowned. "I am not on anybody's side, Danny – I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this."

"The only way you can get your students to behave is to be strict with them," the maths teacher argued. "So don't mollycoddle them."

"And look how that's worked out for you."

"I'm the one here who's having trouble trying to control a misbehaving student and you're blaming me?" Danny growled. He was catching the attention of everyone within a close vicinity. "Then again, it's no surprise since you were giving heart eyes to his father."

Clara's eyes widened at the accusation. This is why her relationship with Danny didn't work out. He never took the time to understand everybody else. It was all about him. Besides, she wasn't keen on dating him, to begin with, but her friends insisted they would make a couple. They were so wrong. "I was not-"

"Yes, you were – what does he have that I don't – are you trying to impress him?" Danny countered. "Are you sleeping with him-"

He didn't finish his sentence as Clara raised her hand and slapped his face hard. It echoed in the break room.

Danny placed a hand on his sore cheek, eyes wide.

"How dare you," she said quietly. "How dare you make such ridiculous accusation."

Even if it were true, she wouldn't be stupid enough to continue teaching Max and would have asked to switch classes with a different teacher.

"My personal life is none of your business, Danny," Clara stated. "I broke up with you because it was always about you - the military did this, the military did that – you hate it, yet you still act like a soldier."

He remained quiet as Clara continued. "You never took the time to get to know your students or try to understand them."

Without another word, she left the break room, heading back to her desk. Everybody else immediately resumed their work.

"Looks like he got what he deserved," whispered one teacher.

When Clara tried to continue marking the essays, she realised she was unable to. Her hands were still shaking from the adrenaline. She felt someone place a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was Barbara.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Fine," she said, despite her hands still shaking. She had never slapped someone before. Let alone her co-worker who also happens to be her ex-boyfriend.

"He got what he deserved for all the things he said to you," Barbara stated. "Just let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Barbara."

After work, Clara decided to pop into the nearest Tesco to get some food and snacks. She didn't feel like cooking after the blunder she experienced earlier in the day. She knew she had to apologise to Danny and she would but for now, he needed to think long and hard about what he said.

She grabbed a sandwich and a bag of crisps before heading to the self-checkout counter. While her body was on auto-pilot, she nearly bumped into someone and immediately apologised before looking in their direction.

The two stared at each other for a moment, recognition clear in their eyes.

"Mr Smith."

"Miss… Oswald."

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you," she apologised.

John granted her a shy smile. "That's ok, I wasn't looking where I was going either."

She forced a smile before her eyes landed on the shopping basket he was carrying. "Grocery shopping?"

He looked at the items in the basket. "Um, yes, Max wanted pasta for dinner," he answered before looking back up. John frowned. "Is everything ok – you seem a bit troubled – this doesn't have anything to do with Max, does it?"

Clara shook her head. "No, yes... I mean, sorry," she sighed tiredly.

The lecturer stared at her with concern. He could only hope his son hadn't upset his teacher. "Would- would you like to talk about it?" he asked. "I hope Max didn't upset you."

"No, no, Max was brilliant today," she insisted.

"Oh," he said, relieved. "Do you still want to talk over what's bothering you?"

Clara wasn't sure why but there was something really comforting about the man standing right in front of her right now. Maybe it was the tone of his voice or maybe he just knew how to talk to people.

"There's a bakery down the street," John commented. The poor woman looked like she could really use a shoulder to cry on. "Their croissants are delicious."

She gave in. "Yeah, just let me pay these first," she said, holding up her dinner.

John beamed.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Let's see how things will go for John and Clara. Enjoy! :)_

* * *

While they were waiting in line since the checkout machine was broken, John had offered to pay for her meal. She declined. However, after much persisting, he won and now they were standing in front of the cashier who smiled at them when he looked down at the shopping basket.

"Dinner date?" he asked.

Clara and John blushed and said nothing as the cashier began scanning the items. They quickly made their way out as soon as the items were paid for.

No more than five minutes later, the two were in a small and cosy café, enjoying a croissant each.

John smiled when he remembered the times he and Oswin used to dine here after work. "I hope your day has improved slightly," he commented.

Clara hadn't eaten that much during lunch, so the croissant and coffee were a nice energy booster. She beamed. "Absolutely," she replied in an awkward manner. The school teacher wasn't so sure about talking about what happened earlier in the day now.

John looked down at his meal before he thought it wouldn't hurt to ask again. "So, you mentioned the trouble you had at school?"

"Oh, yeah, that," she said nervously, playing with her hair. "I may have told off a co-worker and slapped him."

He raised his eyebrows. "He must have said something stupid, then."

"That," she confirmed, choosing the details where Danny accused her of sleeping with the man sitting in front of her right now. "And because of the talk, I had with Max."

"He hasn't been misbehaving, has he?"

She shook her head. "Quite the opposite – I wanted to get to the bottom of why he hated Danny, I mean, Mr Pink so much."

John paused as he reached for his cup of tea. She couldn't possibly know. "What did he tell you?" he asked warily.

"He didn't like how Mr Pink kept treating everyone like a soldier."

He relaxed a bit. "Oh, yes."

Clara had promised that the conversation about Max's mother was only between them, so she was going to keep it that way. "I confronted Danny and he stepped out of his bounds so before I knew it, I had slapped him."

In John's opinion, PE deserved every ounce of pain he experienced from the slap. "I guess he deserved it."

"Mr Smith," she began.

"Please, call me John – Mr Smith sounds too formal and boring," he said, smiling.

Clara felt her heart skip a bit. "If you don't mind me asking, is there more to it why Max doesn't like Mr Pink?"

John broke eye contact and played with his tea before he quietly said, "It's a personal matter."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

He looked up. The same sadness she saw in his eyes the first time they met was back again. "No, it's my fault," he stated.

She found his comment odd.

Clara placed a comforting hand on his. "You don't have to give an explanation – I'm sorry I asked."

He stared at her hand, tempted to place it in his palm. He pulled back his hand. "I'm sorry… it's a difficult subject to talk about."

She nodded, mentally kicking herself for crossing the line.

"I don't think Max will have any issues with his maths teacher again after this," she said, changing the subject as she was unable to bear the silence.

John's face lit up. "You didn't threaten to make him write a thousand-word essay, did you?" he asked jokingly.

She chuckled. "No, but he's going to take part in a text analysis tutorial on Friday."

He beamed. It was nice to know the rest of Max's teachers were genuinely trying to help him.

They finished their light dinner and got into another argument since John insisted on paying.

"I'm starting to feel as if I took advantage of you," Clara said once they were outside.

"There's nothing to feel bad about – just consider it as a thank you for teaching my son," he replied, standing in front of her before he remembered the food she bought. He reached into the bag and handed her the sandwich and crisps. "Almost forgot to give you these."

"Thanks," she said, smiling.

"You're very welcome, Miss Oswald."

"It's only fair if you call me Clara."

John stared at his two feet for a brief moment. "You're very welcome, Clara."

She definitely likes the way he pronounces her name, especially the way he rolls the 'r'.

Clara got on her toes and placed a quick kiss on John's cheek. He looked at her with wide eyes, stunned.

"Thank you," she murmured before walking away.

He placed a hand on his cheek, on the spot where she placed her lips. The last time a woman kissed him was 12 years ago. It brought back plenty of memories.

While he remained in his spot, Clara was unable to prevent herself from smiling. John was such a gentleman. She was also amused at his reaction. He certainly looked like a startled owl with those eyebrows of his. It only fuelled her attraction to him. He wasn't like other men.

* * *

The next day, Clara Oswald's jolly mood didn't go unnoticed. Everyone from her colleagues to her students couldn't help but notice that there was in a spring in her step.

"Miss, can we not submit the essay?" asked one of her students. The whole classroom began laughing.

Clara smirked. "Very funny, James, and to answer your question, no."

Again, her students were in stitches. The bell rang, and Clara waited until everyone had vacated the classroom before she left, making her way to the teacher's lounge.

As soon as she saw the sight of her desk, Clara gasped in her surprise. On her work surface was a bouquet of flowers. A rather large one.

It was then she realised her colleagues were grinning at her.

Slowly, she approached the desk and set down her belongings before reaching for the small note attached to the red tulips. She flipped the card over which read:

 _Hope you're feeling better_

 _-John_

She bit her bottom lip as she read the short message and then quietly giggled to herself. How on earth did he manage to deliver a bouquet of flowers to her so quickly? And how was she going to take this home on her bike?

"Who's the secret admirer?" Barbara asked, startling Clara.

The English teacher immediately hid the card. "I have a pretty good idea who it is," she answered, admiring the beautiful flowers. "Do you have any idea how it got here – I didn't these sitting on my desk this morning."

Ian, who was marking, replied, "Somebody from a delivery company asked where your desk was about an hour ago."

"Did he tell you who sent it?" Barbara asked.

The teacher looked up. "No, he just said he's delivering flowers for Clara."

"Looks like you got somebody who's romantic," Clara heard her colleague say. "I just wish Ian would do something like this."

"Hey, I heard that."

The two women laughed before Barbara left as she was going to be late for her lesson.

Clara sat down, eyes glued to the flowers. John is a such a sweetheart. A thought then occurred. He was her student's father. The idea of fancying a parent never crossed her mind but she never objected to the idea for as long she took the necessary steps. Besides, Max is in Year 13 and he would finish school in two months. Would he be fine with the idea of his father dating his English teacher? It was hard to tell.

Nonetheless, she hoped to see John again so that she could thank him for his sweet gesture.

As she was preparing for her next lesson, the school teacher felt a pair of eyes staring at her. She turned to her right and saw Danny looking in her direction. His facial expression screamed jealousy.

Clara decided to ignore him. They were no longer a couple so why should be bothered, anyway? She hoped he wouldn't want to talk to her right now since she certainly didn't want to hear anything but an apology from him.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw him walking towards her, so she set down her pen and locked eyes. "Can I help you?" she asked coldly.

Danny cleared his throat. "Could I talk to you in private?"

She pondered for a second before nodding and rising to her feet.

Ian and Clara exchanged looks before she gave him a reassuring look.

The moment they stepped into the breakroom, Danny said, "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday."

She remained silent, eyes stone cold.

"I took it too far and I shouldn't have said some things."

She still continued to give him the silent treatment.

"And I took your advice," he added. "You were right, I still had my soldier cap on when teaching the kids."

Clara's facial features softened. "I'm glad to hear that," she replied. The school teacher made a mental note to ask Max if this was true.

"I'm really sorry."

"Apology accepted, Danny," she said. There was nothing else that needed to be said so she decided to leave.

"Clara."

She turned around. "Yes?"

"Could I make it up to you by taking you out for dinner?"

She wouldn't say yes, even if he took her to dinner in outer space. "I'm sorry, Danny, but I have plans tonight."

Danny knew it was his fault their relationship ended, and he was hoping they could reconcile. He could make the effort to become a better person. "I know it was my fault that our relationship didn't-"

"Danny, I don't think this is the place to discuss it," Clara cut-off, facing him properly now. "Besides, the past is in the past."

He nodded silently as she left the break room.

"Everything alright?" Ian asked once she returned to her desk.

"Yep," she replied. The smile returned when she saw the flowers again as Danny Pink was completely forgotten. Instead, John Smith plagued her mind.

* * *

A black Mercedes drove past the school gates before heading to the parking area. The driver of the vehicle slowed down as he searched for an empty spot. It was fifteen minutes before school ended so there wasn't a whole lot of free space left. After a few moments, he spotted an empty one and parked there.

John killed the engine and rolled down the window a bit to let a bit of air in. He was picking up Max and Bill as he had promised to take them to Subway today.

While waiting, he checked his emails and browsed the web until somebody tapped the window next to him. He looked away from the phone and saw Clara smiling at him with the bouquet of flowers he had sent in her arms.

She stepped aside as he got out.

"Miss, I mean, Clara," he greeted.

"I got your flowers," she said, holding them up.

"Do you like them?" he asked anxiously. His wife had always told him women love receiving flowers.

The English teacher beamed. "Of course, I do – they're lovely."

John finally smiled. "That's a relief."

"As a matter of fact, I'm taking half these tulips home."

Looks like he made the right call choosing that particular type of flower. "Why just half?"

She laughed. "I don't think I can carry the whole thing on my bike and I think it's nice to have some on my work desk."

"Do you want me to give you a lift?"

"No, that won't be necessary."

Maybe he shouldn't have gone overboard and chosen the largest bouquet. "Sorry, I should choose a smaller one next time."

Clara arched her brow. "There's a next time?" she teased, causing John to blush.

"If you want to," he said quietly.

"What brings you here today?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, I'm here to pick up Max and Bill – promised them we'd have fast food today."

The saw students walking out of the main building as the bell rang.

"Well, have fun," she murmured before walking away. Just then, Clara paused, and she turned around.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "This is probably the nicest thing I've received in a while."

John watched her walk to her bike and waved at her when she drove off. He didn't really know why but she looked extremely attractive riding the bike.

"Dad," he heard Max and Bill call him.

He collected him. "Yes."

"Why were you staring at nothing?" Max asked as he entered the vehicle.

"No, just waiting for the both of you and making sure you saw me."

The two teenagers exchanged looks.

He started the engine. "Anyway, how was your day?" he asked, as the car began moving.

"Fine," Max answered. "Surprisingly enough, Mr Pink was acting normally."

"Yeah," Bill confirmed. "He wasn't barking orders or yelling like a sergeant."

John smiled. Looks like Clara solved the issue. "Brilliant, so, Subway?"

"Subway," the two kids confirmed.

The father wasn't able to resist from smiling. When he decided to park inside the school area, there was a small part of him that hoped he would see Clara again and he did. He was glad she loved the flowers. Oswin did say red tulips were the way to a woman's heart.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you so much for your amazing support. Let's see if either one of our idiots will each other out on a date ;)_

* * *

The day had finally come. The day Max Smith would decide his future. The day he would sit for his A-level exams. It was a big deal in his family since the exams would determine which university he would go to.

Max had woken up early in the morning to prepare himself. His first paper was Further Maths and while he was confident he would do well, he wanted to maximise his chances of getting the highest grade possible.

When he went downstairs, he was surprised to see the dining table clear of any food. It was odd since his father would always have something prepared for him in the morning.

Max opened the fridge and reached for the cereal and milk before setting them on the counter. He should check up on his dad first. Maybe he overslept.

Silently, he made his way back upstairs and knocked on the door of the master bedroom. No answer. "Dad."

He knocked again. "Dad, it's twenty-past seven," he said before pulling down the door handle and sticking his head in.

John opened his eyes when Max switched on the lights.

His son was now worried. "Dad…"

"I'm up," he said tiredly, sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Twenty-past seven," the young man answered, concern written all over his face. "You don't have to drive me to school if you're tired – maybe you should just rest."

"No, no," he replied, rubbing his eyes. "It's the first day of your exams and I have a meeting today."

Max nodded silently. "Alright."

"Sorry, son, is it alright if you have cereal for breakfast?"

"Yep, fine," he answered before closing the door.

The moment the door was shut, John let out a tired sigh and rested his back against the headboard. He couldn't believe he had overslept. The nightmares were to blame again. It was the worst one this time. He had found Oswin unconscious in the bedroom, lying in a pool of blood. The image was enough to keep anyone awake.

John needed to take a quick shower and get dressed quickly. They were going to be late if he continued lying in bed.

Less than thirty minutes later, both father and son were on their way to school. The father looked slightly dishevelled with his tie crooked to one side and untucked shirt since he was in a rush.

"Dad, did you eat anything before we left?"

"No, I'll have a quick breakfast at uni."

Silence enveloped the car journey once more. John decided to start a conversation.

"How are you feeling?"

Max shrugged. "I think I'll do well – the notes you gave me on differential equations were really helpful."

His father beamed. "I'm glad they were useful," he said as he drove the car into the school compound. Parking wasn't an issue that morning, so he decided to choose the same spot where he and Clara met last time.

John killed the engine before glancing at his son. "You'll do brilliantly, no doubt about it."

They stepped out of the vehicle.

"Do you want me to walk you?" he asked, fixing his untucked shirt.

"Dad!" Max groaned, unable to hide the smile on his face. "This is A-level."

"There's nothing embarrassing about a father walking his son to school – see," his father nodding to a student and her father. "He's doing the same thing."

"I can walk by myself, dad."

John chuckled. "Alright, I get it – you're a big boy now and don't need your father to hold your hand."

"Please don't say that too loudly."

He laughed before he became serious. "All the best, Max," he said before hugging his one and only child. "Everyone believes in you."

Max smiled at his father before he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. "Thanks, dad," he whispered before walking away. "And please eat something!"

John leaned against the car. "I will."

He watched his son disappear into the main building and stood there for a moment before a bike drove past him. His eyes followed the driver. It came to a halt just a few feet away.

Clara took off her helmet and smiled at him.

"Clara," he greeted. The school teacher looked radiant today.

"Hello," she answered. "Drove Max to school today?"

"Yeah, just wanted to have a talk with him before he sits for his first exam."

She stepped a bit closer to him. "How nice of you to do that."

John's cheeks began heating up. "It's nothing, just trying to be a good father for Max."

"You are," she agreed, voice full of sincerity before her eyes spotted his crooked tie. "Your tie is a bit loose."

His eyes widened before he tried fixing it, only to make it worse. "Is it better now – I was in a rush this morning."

Clara bit her bottom lip before she giggled. "No, you just made it worse," she said before she moved a step closer and fixed his tie for him.

The university lecturer blushed once more. People would certainly get the wrong idea, though, he wasn't one for complaining. A smile formed on his lips as he remembered the countless times Oswin tied his tie for him since he was so bad at it.

"There," the English teacher murmured as she inspected him. "All better."

John uttered a shy thank you, hiding his hands in the pocket of his trousers.

"I should get going," Clara said.

"Right, yes, thank you for fixing my tie."

She nodded and looked away shyly before mustering up the courage to speak again. For the past few weeks, Clara had been thinking about asking John out to dinner. He was nice enough to pay for her meal last time and she wanted to return the kind gesture. Besides, she was starting to like him more and more with each passing day.

"John," she began, and he looked straight at her. "Do you have any plans this weekend?"

He raised his eyebrows. Is she asking him out on a date? "Um, uh, no."

"Would you like to have dinner?"

His heart wanted to say yes but his mind said no. He had never considered dating another woman again after his wife died. He felt confused. A part of him knew that he wanted to say yes to Clara only because she looked so much like Oswin. But she wasn't his wife.

Clara furrowed her brows when she saw the guilty look riddled all over his face. "John," she said gently, reaching out a hand but he immediately stepped back.

"I have to go," he said hastily, entering the car.

The next thing she knew, she saw John driving away. He looked troubled.

Maybe she had gotten it wrong all this time. Maybe he was just being nice to her that night. Or could it be that he wasn't ready to move on from his wife? She couldn't tell. Either way, the school teacher felt a bit hurt.

* * *

John felt like the complete moron as he drove away from the school compound. He wanted to bash his head against the steering wheel for being an idiot. He had screwed up big time.

He needed to think clearly so he pulled into the emergency lane by the side of the highway and killed the engine. What was wrong with him?

Was it wrong of him to fall in love with someone who resembled his wife? All those years, he couldn't bring himself to love another woman because his heart died with Oswin. Nobody could live up to her. His Oswin.

Well, that was until he met Clara.

The truth was, he wasn't sure if he was only attracted to her because of who she is.

He was so tired of the nightmares and the loneliness. Sure, he had his son, but he missed having someone to talk to late at night, to share their problems together, to comfort each other. He missed his wife, his life companion.

Now that he was given a chance to find a little bit of happiness, John wasn't sure on taking the opportunity. He didn't want to betray his wife, but he was so, so tired. 12 years of perpetual torture. Which he deserved for sending Oswin and his daughter to their graves. Hadn't he been punished enough, though?

"Think, John," he said to himself.

Oswin would surely want him to be happy, right? She wouldn't be mad at him for loving another woman, too, right?

What does he have to lose by giving it a chance? Nothing. But if it was going to work out, he would have to tell Max at some point. Surely his boy would understand. He wouldn't be angry with his father for trying to find happiness, would he?

John let out a tired sigh before he glanced at the dashboard to check the time. He was going to be late for the meeting.

First thing's first. He needed to apologise to Clara. It was wrong of him to leave her just like that without giving her a proper answer. Yes, he would like to have dinner with her. Second, he needed to buy flowers.

He started the car and drove to work.

Maybe if he was lucky, he could give the flowers to Clara after work. That is if she still wants to talk to him.

As soon as his final lecture for the day was over, Professor John Smith rushed back to his office to collect his belongings. He had received a text from Max hours ago telling him the exam went well and that he was home.

That meant he could drive to school without being caught by his son.

Halfway through the journey, the university lecturer stopped by at a flower shop and bought a bouquet of purple Hyacinths. According to Google, the flowers were supposed to be 'apology flowers'. Hopefully, it was right.

John felt relieved when he saw Clara's bike in the school compound. Parking next to her ride, he grabbed the flowers in the back seat and made sure they looked presentable.

School had already ended so she should be out at any moment.

* * *

Clara Oswald grabbed her bag and helmet on the desk before making her way out of the lounge. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about John since he had left her without giving her an answer. It was as if the mere idea of him dating her scared him.

So, of course, the last thing she would expect to see was the man himself waiting next to her bike, with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He looked quite nervous, too, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. In any other situation, she would have happily pointed it out and told him his son likes to do the same thing.

"John…"

He cleared this throat. "I'd like to apologise for what happened this morning," he began. "Your question took me off guard and I got you these."

John handed her the purple hyacinths.

Clara decided to keep her cool rather than smiling and giggling like a school girl.

"Could I make it up to you by taking you out to dinner – there's this lovely Italian restaurant in Soho."

The school teacher stared at the hyacinths for a moment before she arched a brow. "Go, one there's a lovely Italian restaurant in Soho and?"

He knitted his eyebrows. "That's it – I'd like to have dinner with you there," he replied anxiously. He was hoping she would say yes.

She glanced at the flowers. It was so sweet of him to apologise and give her these. She cracked a smile. "I'll accept your apology and say yes to yours if you say yes to mine."

John raised his eyebrows before looked away, cheeks burning. "Deal," he answered. "Look, about this morning, my mind was in all sort of places and it's been a while since-"

Clara placed a finger to his lips. "You don't have to tell me unless you're sure about it," she murmured. He looked so uncomfortable and broken. "Let's just forget about it and see how this goes, yeah?"

He granted her a shy smile before gently grabbing her wrist and placing a light kiss on the back of her hand. "When should I pick you up?"

"Saturday, at six?" she suggested before placing her helmet and the flowers on the bike. She took out a notebook and scribbled her number and address.

"Six, Saturday, got it," he replied as she handed him the piece of paper.

The teacher chuckled, taking a closer look at the hyacinths. "Are you always this charming and sweet – this is the second time you brought me flowers."

John said nothing as he merely shrugged. "I think it's only appropriate."

Clara got on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered before moving to her bike. "I look forward to Saturday."

The university lecturer was just as excited about the upcoming dinner, too. But before he could go on the date, he would have to inform his son. John hoped Max would be fine with the idea of his father dating again.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! :)_

* * *

 _John Smith opened his eyes and rolled over, reaching out for his wife only to discover she wasn't next to him. That was odd._

 _In fact, the house seems to be eerily silent. He couldn't hear even the sound of his boy running around the house. He should be awake by now._

 _Slowly, John sat up before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed off the sleep from his eyes before rising to his feet and searching for his family._

 _He went to Max's bedroom first to see if he was still asleep and to his surprise, his son wasn't in bed. "Max?" he called out. "Oswin?"_

 _Maybe they were downstairs. He trod down the steps and searched the living room and kitchen. Nothing. Where is his family?_

 _It was then John heard the sound of a sobbing child. It was coming from outside. He froze. This felt familiar. It felt real. It was as if he had been through this before._

 _Slowly, he approached the front door, the sobs getting louder and louder. He could hear Max crying._

 _He swallowed the lump in his throat before pulling the door open._

 _The sight that greeted him was one he had seen hundreds of times. Max was sobbing next to Oswin who was lying in a pool of blood on the street._

 _John immediately shut the door, breathing heavily. "No, no, no," he growled._

 _The sobs were getting louder._

" _No!" he yelled, shutting his eyes. How can he stop this?_

John woke up gasping for breath. He panted heavily, unable to move for a few seconds before he was able to control his breathing. Slowly, he sat up and rested his back against the headboard before reaching for his phone with a shaky hand. 6:12 AM.

He took the day off today, so he could drive Max to school and then pick him up after his Physics exam.

Closing his eyes, he tried to forget the dream that haunted his mind. Instead, he filled it with memories of him and Max, the times they spent together, travelling around Scotland when Max turned 12, taking him to the Science Museum when he was seven, watching his first ever play when he was in Year 8.

It was then Oswin, no, an image of Clara came into view. Her beautiful face and smile were seared into his mind.

John opened his eyes. 6:15 AM. Time to get up.

Two hours later, he was driving his son to school. Max hadn't said much during breakfast as he was busy going through his Physics notes earlier. Now, he was just staring out the window.

The father couldn't help but smile. Max reminded him what Oswin was like whenever she was about to sit for a test or exam.

"You ok?"

The young man glanced at his father before he nodded. "Yeah, just thinking about the stuff for Physics."

It then occurred to John that his date with Clara is in two days time and he had yet to inform his son about it. Maybe he should tell him after the exam.

"You'll be fine – just relax and everything will come to you naturally," he advised.

The boy chuckled. "I'm not a genius like you, dad."

The university lecturer arched a brow. "Nonsense – I'm an idiot who just so happens to know a thing or two about my field of speciality and besides, the only reason I know more is that I've been teaching for years."

"I'm sure a lot of people would disagree," Max chuckled. He aspired to be as intelligent and successful as his father one day. Granted, he wasn't entirely sure about working as a lecturer, but he was open to the idea.

John shook his head. "Today is all about you, so let's just focus on that – you'll ace the first paper, son, I'm sure of it."

He parked his car next to the spot where Clara would park her bike.

"Do you have everything – your pencil case, water bottle," the father asked. "Phone, which I hope you'll remember to switch off before the exam."

"Yep," Max confirmed. "All but the kitchen sink."

Together, they stepped out of the vehicle.

"Just remember, Physics is just maths but you're now in the applied world."

The young man chuckled. "I'll keep that mind, dad."

"So, I'll pick Bill and you up in two hours?"

"Yeah," he answered before hugging his father.

John wished his son all the best and the boy was well on his way to the exam hall.

He decided to stick around for a minute longer so that he could have a quick chat with Clara.

As if on cue, she drove her bike past him.

"I don't suppose you're here to give me flowers again, are you?" the school teacher teased after taking off her helmet.

"No, sorry," John said holding his hands up to show he wasn't hiding any flowers. "Just making sure Max is prepared for the exam."

Clara was glad that she was able to see him this morning. She had been meaning to ask him if he had told Max about their date. "Speaking of Max, does he know that we're…"

The professor realised what she was implying. "Oh, right, I haven't told him yet – thought it would be a good idea to let him sit for his Physics exam first."

"Yep, yeah, good idea," she said. Now she just felt stupid for bringing it up.

Unsure of what else to say, John decided it was time for him to go. "Well, I better get going then – see you this Saturday."

She beamed. That was something the school teacher is really looking forward.

He turned around and gave her a boyish grin. "My tie doesn't need fixing, does it?"

Clara quickly glanced at his torso. From shy and awkward to flirty. Not that she was complaining. "You're not wearing one – put one on and I might actually fix it."

He put on his Wayfarer sunglasses. "I'll be sure to do a poor job of tying it next time."

She waved him goodbye as the black Mercedes drove off.

It was then she felt a pair of eyes staring at her and when Clara turned around, she saw Danny staring in the distance. She could only hope he hadn't been spying or standing there for long.

Silently, she made her way to the main building.

* * *

John Smith looked up from the notes he held in his hand and checked the time. Max and Bill would have finished their exam now. He was in his car, going over his notes for an upcoming seminar while waiting for his two kids.

Less than a minute later, he spotted them from the corner of his eyes and smiled. Max was the first to get into the vehicle and when he did, he slumped down on the seat and let out a sigh of relief.

"Is that a good sign of a bad one?" the father asked.

"Good," Bill said.

"Yeah, just glad the first paper's done," Max confirmed. "And I'm knackered."

John put his notes away as he started the car. "It's a good thing I took the day off or Bill would have had to drag you home."

"Haha," Max deadpanned while Bill giggled.

As soon as they returned home, he thought it would be a good idea to tell his son the truth first before he makes up more excuses to delay the inevitable.

"Max," he called out gently.

The teenager was halfway up the stairs when he stopped. "Yes, dad?"

"There's something I need to talk to you about."

Max stared at his father, curiosity written all over his face as he sat down on the sofa next to his father. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

John shook his head. "No, I wanted to talk to you about well," he began. "I, um... I have a date this Saturday."

The young man eyes widened in surprise. "Oh."

His father had been quite nervous over how his only child would react. The fact that Max had a blank face on didn't help settle his nerves.

"So are you fine with that?"

Max knew this day was coming. He just didn't expect it to be after an important exam. "Yeah, that's fine, dad."

John finally relaxed. "I thought you weren't going to be happy about it."

"What makes you say that?"

"Remember that one time I-"

He didn't need to be reminded of the lady. "Yep, I remember, and I still don't like her, as unreasonable as that sounds."

As much as the younger Smith wanted his father to be happy, he still needed to know one another thing. He had a feeling he knew who his dad was going out with. "Who's your date?"

The university lecturer cleared his throat before he spilt the beans. "Miss Oswald."

Max went silent for a moment.

"I know she's your English teacher, but you're almost done with school, so I don't think there will be much of a problem there," the father explained.

It wasn't that the boy didn't want his dad to date his teacher. He could date whoever he chooses and Max had grown fond of his English teacher, but the fact that Miss Oswald resembles his mother does pop up a few questions. "I'm fine with that, dad," he explained, seeing the look of relief on his face. "But you are dating her because you like her right, and not because she looks like…"

John immediately nodded. "Yes, Max, I know what you mean."

He decided not to push the topic further any longer, as weird as it sounds that his dad is dating his teacher who looks like his mum. "Alright."

The father's face lit up. "So you're fine with it?"

"I'll be honest, it does sound a bit weird, but for the most part, yes."

He smiled and patted his son on the back. "Thank you," he said as the boy stood up.

"Dad," Max murmured, just as he was about to leave. "There's just one condition."

He needed to make sure that nobody was hurt.

"What's that?" John asked, furrowing his brows.

"If things get serious, you have to tell Miss Oswald about mum," the boy stated. "I don't want you or her to get the wrong idea."

His father's facial expression and tone immediately changed. It sounded more gravely. "We'll see how the date goes."

Max nodded, understanding what he meant before going upstairs. Looks like he'll be spending the afternoon talking to Bill.

* * *

John stared at his reflection in the mirror as he adjusted his black jacket for the umpteenth time. He was going to leave in ten minutes to pick up Clara, but he first needed to be sure he looked presentable.

"Dad, how long have you been standing there?" Max said before he entered his room to retrieve a book.

"It doesn't hurt to make sure I'm well-dressed."

His son then leaned against the frame of the bedroom door, arms crossed. "You look fine," he said, smiling. "I'm sure she's going to notice it."

John turned to Max. "You think so?"

He wore a black jacket, coupled with a crisp light blue shirt, and black trousers.

"I can get Bill here, so you can hear her opinion."

"It's fine – she's probably revising."

The teenager smiled at his father before turning around. "Which restaurant are you going to?"

His father followed him shortly after. "Capaldi's."

Max turned around grinning. "Are you allowed to takeaway ice-cream?"

John chuckled. "I'll see what I can do – double scoop chocolate chip?"

"Yep."

Anything for his boy.

While the young man returned to the living room to continue with his revision, his father pulled out several pairs of shoes from the storage cupboard under the staircase. Unsure of which pair to choose, he decided to get his son's opinion.

"Which looks better?"

Max looked up and set his pen down. "I'd say go with the black ones."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

Once he was all dressed up, John thought it was best to leave before he was late, regardless of how nervous he felt. "I'll be back at around ten or eleven," he announced from the hallway.

"I'll be here all night, dad," his son replied. "Have fun."

He smiled. "Thank you," he said before locking the door.

Half an hour later, John finally arrived at Clara's flat. He parked his car by the side of the road before stepping out and reading the address she had written for him. "Flat 12, Building DW," he repeated under his breath while searching for her home.

After five minutes of searching, he found her flat and pressed the buzzer.

John stared at Clara with his mouth slightly agape when she opened the door and stood in front of him wearing a simple yet fashionable red dress.

When she noticed the expression on his face, the school teacher looked down at her dress. "It's not too much, is it?"

Her date cleared his throat before looking up. "Uh, no – you look gorgeous – I mean, stunning – beautiful," he stammered.

"Thanks," she giggled in response before stepping out and locking the door. "I like your shirt – it suits you," she commented and decided to tease him a bit. "No tie?"

John looked down at his own two feet, wishing he had some sort of witty comeback as he smiled shyly. "Shall we?" he said, offering his arm.

Clara took the offer and they headed to his car. So far so good, though she couldn't help but feel as if there was something more her date wanted to say. There was this look in his eyes. It was as if he was looking at her yet, at the same time, he's not. Maybe it was just her thinking too much into it.

Regardless, she banished the thought. John is a single father after all. He probably hadn't done this sort of thing in a while, so she couldn't put him at fault. Enough about it. She was on a date and decided to focus on that. The man next to her looks extremely handsome and dashing. She's looking forward to the dinner date.


	10. Chapter 10

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Let's see how the date goes :)_

* * *

"So what did dad say?" Bill asked through the speaker phone. "Did he look nervous or was he excited?"

Max chuckled as he read through a past paper he was working on. "He was nervous."

"That's it?" she said. "What's with the simple answer?"

"I thought you were calling because you wanted to discuss question four."

Max set down the paper on the coffee table before swinging his long legs over the armrest of the sofa, getting into a comfortable position. He decided to take a break since Bill had phoned him for a different reason.

"I've done question four and no, I called because I wanted to know how it's going to go," Bill answered.

"You do realise you could have just popped in, right?" the young man stated. "You literally live next door."

"Can't be bothered – too lazy to leave my room," she replied, laughing.

"Thought so," he grumbled under his breath, but it was loud enough for his best friend to hear through the phone.

"I heard that, Scottish boy."

Max reached for the glass of water. "Glad you did."

"Anyway, are you really fine with your dad dating Miss Oswald?"

He took a sip of his drink first. "Yeah, I am, Bill – why do you keep asking?"

"Well, if things get serious, you'll probably end up having her as your step-mum," Bill teased.

Strangely enough, Max didn't find the idea daunting at all. Sure, it sounded a bit weird that there is a possibility his English teacher might become his step-mum if it gets that serious but as far as he was concerned, that's a future matter and for now, he likes just the way things are.

Miss Oswald had been treating him nicely since she began teaching at his school. She understood him better than any of his other teachers and there was just something 'motherly' about her as he would put it.

"I like her – she's nice, besides, you're thinking too far ahead," he explained, switching on the TV and lowering the volume.

"Oh, so you're on board with the idea, then?"

He arched a brow. "What idea?"

"Dad and Miss Oswald, duh."

"Yes, for as long as they're happy and once dad tells her about mum, then I'll be completely on board with them dating or getting married – whatever."

The young man could hear Bill smiling. "I find it cute how protective you are of dad."

He was silent for a moment. They only had each other after all. His father had always been very protective of him and tried giving him a good life. Max could see that he tried very hard to raise him all by himself.

"I guess so," he mumbled.

"Anyway, want to carry on with question five or are you about to fall asleep?" Bill asked, changing the subject.

Max sat upright. "I'm good but I'm probably going to stop after this."

* * *

John and Clara were seated opposite of each other, behind a circular table. They had ordered their food and were now waiting for their meals to be served.

The school teacher had expected her date to take her to a modest, yet nice Italian restaurant and she wasn't disappointed, to say the least. She liked the atmosphere and the food smelt good. Somehow, she could imagine John eating her regularly.

"Do you always come here?" she asked.

John smiled. "Yes, the food is delicious, and Max loves the ice-cream that they serve – I think it's homemade."

They started chatting about their respective lives with John talking about taking Max on a trip to Singapore the previous year and how his son complained about the heat. Clara, on the other hand, told him that the last time she was on vacation was after she graduated from uni.

She hadn't had much time to travel as she received a job offer to teach English in Germany for two years before working as an au pair for the Maitlands and then a teacher at Coal Hill until she ended up Max's school.

John's smile only grew bigger the more his date started talking more about her life.

"I've always wanted to travel the world," Clara said. "But with a full-time job and the salary, I just decided to shelf the idea until I've saved up enough money – I'll probably go to Italy first."

His smile dropped when Italy was mentioned as he remembered Oswin telling him she had wanted to visit the country. That was a month before they had found out she was pregnant again. They never made that trip because it was too pricey.

"John, are you alright?" he heard Clara ask as she placed her hand gently on his.

He snapped out of his thoughts. "Sorry, just remembering something," he said, avoiding her gaze.

"Are you sure?" she asked with concern. "You seemed a bit zoned out just now."

Clara found it odd that he had completely lost touch with reality when she mentioned Italy. It was as if there was some sort of significance to it, but she didn't want to push him.

"Yeah, just remembering the time I planned to travel to Milan with my family."

That was odd. He had never used that term before. Family. He would always refer to Max. Maybe it's connected to his late wife but it wasn't her place to ask, so Clara changed the subject.

"Alright, anyway, the dessert, you said it's one of the best ice-creams you've ever tasted."

The smile returned. "It's probably the best."

"What would you recommend?" she asked when she felt him caress her hand with his thumb.

"Everything."

The school teacher giggled. "I can't just try every single flavour."

"I have," he replied, grinning. "But not in one sitting, obviously."

She felt butterflies in her stomach when he flashed her that boyish grin. "Seriously, I'm a bit indecisive here – either vanilla or chocolate chip."

"I'd say vanilla because that's what I'll be having but chocolate chip is good too – Max's favourite."

"I'll go with your choice this time."

They placed their order for dessert and before the waiter left their table, John asked, "This may be a bit of a strange request, but can I take away ice-cream?"

The waiter stared at him with a confused expression for a moment before he pulled out his notepad and pen again. "Sure, we'll place in a box with dry ice - what flavour?"

Clara smirked at him once the waiter went away.

"What?"

"Takeaway ice-cream?" she said in a teasing tone.

John laughed quietly. "It's for Max."

"Are you sure it's not for you?"

"Maybe it is," he answered, grinning.

They both had a feeling the night was only going to get better.

An hour later, the couple were in the car, on their way back to Clara's flat.

John killed the engine and exchanged awkward glances with his date. He cleared his throat. "We're here."

"Yep," Clara replied before stepping out of the vehicle.

He mimicked her move and went over to the other side.

"Thank you so much for a wonderful dinner," she said, biting her bottom lip.

John smiled, hiding his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "Thank you too, for being a great company."

Clara waited for him to make his move. She had been wondering what it was like to kiss him since she had asked him out and she was hoping to find that out tonight.

"So, when will I see you again?"

"When I see you," she joked, earning a confused and nervous look. "I'm free next Saturday."

Her date smiled. "Great, I'll pick you up at the same time then?"

"Yes," she answered, nodding.

John cleared his throat again. "I better go," he murmured and turned around.

Clara rolled her eyes and shook her head, unable to stop herself from smiling. "Aren't you forgetting something, Mr Smith?"

He looked back at her anxiously before turning around once more and stepping closer to her. He looked as if he was about to kiss her, but to the school teacher's disappointment, he kissed her on the cheek. They did say beggars can't be choosers.

He placed a hand gently on the left side of her face before planting a soft kiss on her right cheek.

"Good night, Clara."

"Good night, John."

John stood by the side of the pavement as he watched her enter the building before he went around the car and stepping inside. He glanced back at her flat, making sure she was inside and bumped his head against the steering wheel.

He had wanted to kiss her but chickened out in the final second and opted for the safe move. He wanted to know if it was the same. Clara and Oswin literally look the same. More than anything else, he needed to know if he was in love with Clara or not. Too bad it wasn't going to be tonight.

With a sigh, John started the car and drove his way home. When he reached his destination half-an-hour later, the lights in the living room were switched off so he had assumed Max was already asleep.

To his surprise when he stepped inside, his son was sleeping on the sofa, still holding a pen in one hand.

The father beamed before he quietly and gently pulled the pen away and set it on the table. He stared at his boy for a moment. A lot of people say that Max was the spitting image of him and no doubt he was, but John could definitely see some of Oswin's traits in him.

All those years ago when he had to bring Max along to his work-related trips, he would always find his son asleep in bed, that Nintendo device thing still switched on beside him while he clutched a blue-police box plushie Oswin had bought for him.

John went to the kitchen to store the ice-cream in the freezer before he tiptoed upstairs to retrieve a blanket. He didn't have the heart to wake up his son and so, when he returned to the living room, he draped the duvet over Max.

The teenager stirred in his sleep before rolling over.

The father smiled once more before he gently caressed the boy's curly hair. He then turned around and quietly went to his bedroom.

* * *

Max was woken up by the smell of fresh croissants, toast and coffee. It smelt so good that he sat up with his eyes closed, scratching his head while yawning.

"Mr A-level is finally up," John commented as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

When the teenager was fully awake, he realised he was wrapped in a blanket and smiled before tossing it aside. "What time is it?"

"Ten."

He wasn't sleepy, but he was definitely hungry, so he trod into the kitchen where he found his father sitting behind the table full of food.

"It smells really good," Max commented and sat down before he reached for a piece of toast. "I'm guessing the date went really well?"

John grinned before he said, "Have you brushed your teeth?"

The teenager blinked a couple of times before he raced upstairs. Less than five minutes later, he returned to the kitchen wide awake and looking a lot fresher.

"How did the date go?" the young man asked casually as he took a bite of his toast.

His father leaned back against the chair. "I think it went really well – we had a great time during dinner."

Max smiled. His father looked really happy. Extremely happy. He couldn't remember the last time his old man was grinning non-stop.

"By the way, your ice-cream is in the freezer," John said as he returned to the newspaper. "And don't even think about eating it for breakfast," he warned, not looking up as his son quietly rose from his seat. He knew his son too well.

"What's wrong with having ice-cream for breakfast?" he grumbled jokingly.

The older Smith looked up. "I think you answered your own question."

Max chuckled. "So does this mean you have another date?"

"Yep," John answered. "Next Saturday."

The boy nodded, and he continued to eat his breakfast in silence. It was too early to tell if things were getting serious between his dad and teacher so there was no reason for him to bring up the promise just yet.

"By the way, Bill is going to be here after twelve, so I'd advise you to get ready for an interrogation," the teenager said. "She wanted to know more about the date, but I only know so much."

John folded the newspaper and put it away. "I'm sure I can handle it," he replied and smiled. Bill was like a daughter to him. She and her mother had moved into the house next door about 11 years ago and Bill quickly became the best of friends with Max. She was like the daughter he never had. "No big deal."

He didn't care if people were going to ask him the same question over and over again. He just felt happy despite the slight bump he made after the date.

John could only hope he would have the courage to kiss Clara on their second date, which he is very much looking forward to.


	11. Chapter 11

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Ready for the kiss? ;)_

 _"God give me courage to show you, you are not alone" - Christine Daae, The Final Lair, The Phantom of the Opera_

* * *

John Smith grinned when he saw his son sprinting towards the car. It was the final day of the exams and Max was finally done with school. Any child would feel elated. In fact, he had planned to take him to Capaldi's for lunch as a way of celebrating.

"Judging by that look on your face, I would say the exam went well," he commented the moment the teenager got inside.

Max grinned. "It did go well but I'm just happy it's finally over and can relax now," he replied, putting the seatbelt on.

The vehicle started moving.

"Do you want to go home first, or do you want to go straight to Capaldi's?"

A month had passed since his first date with Clara and so far, they had been on three dates, four if one would count the upcoming one this Sunday. John was loving every moment of it but there was still one thing he hadn't done yet. He had yet to give Clara a proper kiss and knew it was overdue. The issue is that he was afraid. He was afraid of disappointing her and he feared the outcome of the kiss. He still wasn't sure if he is attracted to Clara for who she is.

"I think we should head home first – I've been sweating like mad and need a shower," Max said, snapping his father out of his thoughts.

"Alright, we'll go home first," his father confirmed as he focused on driving.

Maybe he could get some tips from his son. After all, kids these days know more about relationships than he did back when he was their age.

John cleared his throat. "Max, could I ask you something?"

"Sure, dad," the boy answered, pulling out a bottle of water from his bag.

"Is it weird if you hadn't kissed someone after the third date?"

Max nearly spat out his drink when he heard what his father just asked. "What?"

He was no expert in relationships since he had never been in one. How was he supposed to be of any help?

"I know it sounds weird but I'm not sure who else to ask," John said hastily. When he had dated Oswin, she was the one who had kissed him on their first date, so he didn't have to worry about it anymore. Until now that is.

The boy was silent for a moment before he finally spoke. "I think you should have done it at least in the second date," he said with uncertainty.

"Oh," the father said. "Right, I'm way off."

Max wasn't sure if it was a good idea to bring up his mother into the conversation, so he opted for a different solution. "We could ask Bill – she's a girl so she's bound to know something."

John nodded. "Maybe you can invite her over before the date?"

"I'm sure that can be arranged easily," the young man said as he relaxed.

He had been wanting to tell his father that he had decided to choose Oxford if he gets the grades that they want. As much as he didn't want to leave him, he absolutely loves the modules that his university of choice offered, not that UCL wasn't on par. It was a difficult decision for him, but he was confident he made the right choice. The young man was sure his old man wasn't going to be alone now thanks to Miss Oswald.

"Dad," Max said quietly.

"Yeah, kiddo."

The teenager chuckled. He hadn't heard that nickname in a while. "I've done a lot of thinking and as much as I love UCL," he explained, remembering the times he would stay in the library or his father's office after school. "Would it be alright with you if I go to Oxford?"

John knew that from the moment his boy told him he was invited for an interview, Max had already made up his mind and no matter how selfish a small part of him was for wanting him to stay in London, he would accept his son's decision. It was a prestigious university, after all.

He was happy for Max, but at the same time terrified of being left alone. "Of course, I'm fine with it – you'd have to be insane not to choose Oxford!" he said, forcing a smile.

The young Smith stared at his father. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?"

"Yes, absolutely – Max, this chance doesn't come very often, and you should know how lucky you are for getting an offer."

He nodded, finally smiling.

The vehicle came to a halt in front of the garage. The passengers stepped out after the engine was killed.

Once they were inside, Max said, "Dad, thank you."

He then proceeded to hug his father.

John patted the boy on the back. He knew that the thank you meant more than just for allowing him to study at Oxford. It was so much more than that.

"I love you, dad."

The father felt couldn't help but feel as if his heartstrings were being tugged. All those years of raising his child, taking Max, who was barely as tall as his hips, everywhere with him, teaching him how to build a Lego car, taking him to the cinema to watch Toy Story 3. Oh, how time flies. He inhaled deeply, fighting the urge to cry and swallowing the lump in his throat. "I love you too, Max."

He then pulled away and nodded to the stairs. "Go on, get a shower and we'll leave in an hour," John said and realised something. "That actually rhymed."

"Just when I thought you stopped being funny," Max commented lightly before taking the stairs.

* * *

"Alright, I got here as soon as I could after you texted 'dad needs help'," Bill said urgently as she stepped into the house.

Max stared at her with a confused expression before closing the door. "It's not an emergency or anything like that," he explained.

They went into the living room where John was watching a movie. "Oh, hi Bill – didn't expect you to get here so quickly."

"Yeah, Max said you needed help."

The father scratched the back of his head. "Something like that, I need some advice."

"What sort of advice because I'm getting the feeling it's related to your date with Miss Oswald," she commented, sitting down on a leather chair.

John glanced at his son.

"Just tell her, dad," Max coaxed, picking up his game console and resuming where he left off.

"I haven't kissed her yet."

Bill's eyes widened. "You haven't?!" she exclaimed. "Dad!"

"Is it that bad?" he asked anxiously. If it was, then why would Clara agree to go out with him for the fourth time?

Bill face-palmed. "How many dates have you been on with Miss Oswald?"

"Three."

She face-palmed again. "You were supposed to kiss her on the first date – the second date tops."

"I wasn't sure what to do," John defended. "So do I just go for it in the next one?"

"Yes!" she said in frustration. "That's exactly what you should have done."

The father held up his hands. "Alright, alright, I will."

"This also applies to you, Max," Bill added.

He set the console he was holding down and knitted his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"If your future-self gets a girlfriend, don't make the same mistake."

Max laughed. "Trust me, I won't, not after witnessing this."

"Are you staying for dinner, Bill?" John asked, changing the subject.

The young woman smiled. "Love to dad, but my mum and I are making fish and chips tonight," she stated, rising to her feet. "Some other time."

She then flicked her best friend on the arm. "Ow!"

"That was for making me think we had an emergency."

"You're lucky I'm playing this game right now," Max growled as Bill left.

"If I hadn't known Bill was gay, I would have thought the two of you were dating," his father teased.

"Haha," the teenager said sarcastically. "Anyway, what's for dinner?"

John turned away from the TV. "What do you want to eat?"

He shrugged in response, eyes never leaving the screen in front of him. "Carbonara?"

"I don't think we have any sauce left," the older Smith murmured as he went to the kitchen to check. "Yep – I'll have to go to Tesco."

"Ok," Max mumbled as his father went upstairs to grab his jacket.

Twenty minutes later, John was in a Tesco Express, buying all the necessary ingredients for dinner. He was checking which cheese to choose when a familiar voice said, "What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

He grinned and turned to face the woman. "Clara," he greeted happily.

"Max wants pasta again?" she inquired, giggling.

"Yep," he answered, throwing the bag of cheese into the basket. "What about you – having sandwiches and crisps for dinner?"

"No, I remembered that I ran out of shampoo, so I might as well buy this now before I forget," she explained. "And don't even think about being a gentleman and paying for it because I did."

John grinned. "Could I at least be a gentleman by walking you back to school?"

The school teacher beamed. "That's acceptable."

He quickly paid for the groceries before catching up with Clara who was waiting outside. To his surprise, she grabbed his hand.

"How's Max?" she asked as they began walking. "I bet he's over the moon now that he's finished with A-level."

John grinned. "He was thrilled, as you might expect, and has been using that Nintendo thing all day long since he got home," he explained. "What about you – how was work?"

"Same old, same old," she answered, feeling him caress her hand. Things were smooth for her so far. Danny stopped bothering her and she was dating the sweetest and kindest man she had ever met. "Just lots of marking."

"Well, I do hope it's not as bad as it sounds," he commented.

They finally reached the school parking area and in the corner was Clara's bike. It was just after six, so the school was empty by now.

John didn't want to let go of Clara's hand just yet, so he followed her to where the bike was parked. "Have I ever told you that you look attractive on a bike?"

She glanced at him and arched a brow. "Oh, is that so?"

He chuckled. "But you do look attractive all the time anyway," he said shyly.

Clara but her bottom lip, trying hard not to grin. Here they were, acting like a couple of teenagers who had just fallen in love. She let go of his hand before wrapping her arms around his neck. "I could say the same thing about you, Mr Smith."

"Me?" he murmured, placing his shaky hands on her hips. "I'm just an old man."

"A very handsome one," she replied, tilting her head to one side.

He smiled at her. "Well, this handsome old man is taking you to a nice restaurant this Sunday."

They began moving slowly in a rhythm as if they were slow dancing. Clara was glad there was nobody in the parking area right now.

"I can't wait," she whispered before she closed her eyes and pulled him down to her in a gentle kiss.

What surprised her, however, was that John wasn't kissing her back, so she pulled away and opened her eyes. He had a frown on his face and something else. She couldn't read it.

He knew the kiss was coming the moment Clara wrapped her arms around him. He had been bracing himself for it and when she kissed him, he came to the realisation that he wasn't kissing Oswin. He was kissing Clara. And damn, did he love the feel of her lips against him.

John gently cupped her face with both hands, caressing her cheeks. She was still staring at him with confusion and uncertainty written all over her face. God, she looks so gorgeous. Clara Oswald.

He felt her place a reassuring hand on his wrist before he bent down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

John Smith finally got his answer. He was in love with Clara and he was glad of it.

She wrapped her arms around his neck again, bringing him closer to her. Here they were, acting like a pair of lovestruck teenagers, sharing their first kiss in a school parking lot.

They eventually pulled away and John rested his forehead against hers. "Sorry, I know I'm bad at this."

"Nonsense, and even if you were," she whispered. "You'll get better with loads of practice."

"I like that idea, Clara Oswald," he murmured before kissing her once more.

He didn't care how long they were going to stand there and snog. Everything else can wait for a moment.

However, John was stunned and taken off guard when somebody ripped him away from Clara and punched him square in the face.

"Danny!" he heard her scream as he staggered backwards, bleeding through his nose.

Danny then continued to beat up John, but he immediately fought back. Clara yelled at them to stop but it fell on deaf ears.

The two men exchanged punches until John got the upper hand, striking his opponent until he was on the ground, groaning in pain.

"What is wrong with you?" Clara screamed at her former partner. "Have you lost your mind?" she demanded, reaching out to John who was losing his balance.

Danny said nothing as he got to his feet. "I don't believe you're with him – he's-"

"Stay away from me and John or I swear to God I will call the police," she threatened, trying her best to steady John.

"Clara," her ex-boyfriend began.

"Go away," she said through gritted teeth. "Or I will scream."

Danny shook his head and huffed before leaving, limping.

Once he disappeared, Clara told John to sit on the bike. "Are you alright?" she asked, cupping his cheek. He was still bleeding through his nose and there were cuts on his face. "I think we should go to the hospital."

"No, I'm fine," he said quietly, struggling to get up. "Just… just take me home."


	12. Chapter 12

_Thank you so much for all your wonderful support! Ready for some tooth decaying Whouffaldi moments? :)_

* * *

Clara wanted to take John to the hospital, but he had insisted he would rather go home so she ended up calling a cab.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive to the nearest hospital, love?" asked the driver.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the man leaning his head back beside her cut her off. "Home."

Luckily for them, it was only a ten-minute journey and when she helped him out of the car, he leaned against her, trying to steady himself before producing a key.

To her relief, she saw Max stepping out of the house. "Dad?" he said, seeing how battered his father was and running up to him. He draped an arm over his shoulder as he and the school teacher helped John get inside. "What happened?" he asked, worry written over his face.

Clara knew she needed to choose her words carefully and reveal relevant details only. "Your father got into a fight."

"With whom?" the teenager asked as they slowly settled him down on the sofa.

"Just a lunatic that came out of nowhere – that's not important right now," she answered.

Max stared at his father. There were so many questions going through his mind. "Don't you think we should get him to a hospital?"

"That is what I've been trying to tell him."

John groaned. "It's not like I'm dying or anything."

He then attempted to get up and managed to stand on his own two feet.

"See, I'm fine," he said hoarsely, cupping his nose. A second later, he lost his balance, but Max quickly grabbed his father.

Clara pressed her lips together. "That's it, we're taking you to the hospital."

The teenager then glanced at his school teacher. "Are we going to take a cab or are you going to drive?" he asked. "I only have a learner's permit."

"Car key's in the bowl," John managed, trying to stop his nose from bleeding but he wasn't really doing a good job since his hands were also in pain.

"Let's go," Clara said as she grabbed the keys.

An hour later, all three were at the hospital, waiting for a doctor to tend to John who was lying on a bed.

"This is really unnecessary," he grumbled. "You could have just given me an ice pack."

Clara, who was seated next to the bed, glared at him. "And what, watch you bleed to death."

"I'm not bleeding anymore," he reasoned.

Max looked away as he tried his best not to smile. It was funny how they were arguing like a married couple.

"Yes, but it wouldn't hurt to make sure you're fine," the school teacher said before she felt him reach for her hand and gently grasping it. There were cuts on his hands too.

At that moment, a doctor dressed in a white lab coat approached them. "Mr Smith, I'm Dr Jones," she said, introducing herself. "I was told you got into a brawl?" she asked, examining her patient.

"We exchanged a few punches," John corrected, wincing a bit when Martha touched his broken nose. "It's just a broken nose."

She stared at Max and Clara. Must be his wife and son, although the mother does look a bit young. "Right, I'm going to need to patch him up so would it be alright if you two wait outside?" she said. "And as for you, Mr Smith, your nose is indeed broken, but you also sustained injuries on your hands so we're going to make sure you don't get an infection - same goes for those cuts on your face."

Max nodded while Clara stood up and left the outpatient treatment area and headed for the waiting lounge on the opposite side as Martha pulled the curtains.

As they sat down next to each other, the teenager thought it would be a good idea to get the full story. He cleared his throat. "Did dad really get into a fight?" he began.

The school teacher pressed her lips together, hoping he wouldn't ask her who the assailant was. "Yes."

"How did it happen – where did this happen," he added. "I thought he was going to Tesco to buy food."

"He was – we bumped into each other at Tesco – he said you wanted pasta for dinner and well, your father offered to walk me back to school," she explained, watching the young man closely. She swore she could see the gears in his head turn.

Max's tone then changed. "What happened then?" he questioned in a low voice.

Clara knew there was no point in hiding the details any longer as he had probably come up with a conclusion of his own. "You have to promise me not to get angry or do anything irrational."

He was quiet, gritting his teeth, as his hands curled into fists.

"Max," she said gently. "Please, acting on your emotions won't get anything sorted out and it will only make things worse."

The teenager knew his teacher had a point, but he had never felt so angry in his entire life. He inhaled deeply before nodding. "Alright, I won't if you tell me the truth," he murmured, staring at the shiny floor.

"Your father and I were in the school car park when Mr Pink punched him," she explained, giving Max a warning look before he lost his temper. "I know Mr Pink is at fault, but do not take matters into your own hands, do you understand me?"

Of course, he did and how could he defy her when she looked and sounded so much like his mother. "You can't just let this go," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair.

Clara placed a comforting hand on his arm. "This concerns your father and me, so I will handle it and nobody said about sweeping this under the carpet."

The boy sighed and nodded. She was right, but there was one more thing Max wanted to know. "Why did he punch dad?"

The school teacher immediately looked away. How on earth was she going to tell the son of the man she is dating and student, well her former student, that they were snogging in the car park? "Mr Pink didn't like it when he saw us together."

"That doesn't give him the right to go around hurting people," Max growled.

"Yes, I know, which is why I am telling you to let me handle this."

"Fine."

A second later, a nurse strode into the lounge asking Max and Clara to see Dr Jones. They didn't need to be told twice and returned to the outpatient room where Martha and John were in.

"How is he?" Clara asked the moment she stepped in and rushed to his side. The doctor had bandaged both his hands as well as his nose and cleaned the cuts.

"Dad, how are you feeling?"

John looked at his son tiredly. "Better once I get out of here."

"John doesn't need to be admitted, does he?"

Martha smiled. "No, that won't be necessary, but he will need to rest for a few days and that means staying in bed," she said sternly.

He rolled his eyes as he slowly sat up and he got on his feet, holding the rail of the bed to balance himself. "Yes, I know what that means – can we go now?"

"You're still a bit dizzy so I would recommend you to lie down," the doctor suggested. "We need to get the paperwork sorted before you can leave."

He reluctantly followed her instructions and rested his head on the soft pillow.

"Right, so who would like to handle the paperwork?" Martha asked, staring at Max and Clara as the two exchanged looks.

"I will," the young man volunteered immediately.

"Great, but just to be sure, you are over the age of 18, right?"

Max pressed his lips together. "I'm almost 18."

Martha locked eyes with Clara. "Then I guess it will have to be your mum."

The teenager was too stunned to say anything, so he merely walked backwards while Clara followed the doctor. John was still too disoriented to process anything properly.

"Did Dr Jones say something about your mother?" the father questioned, eyes closed.

His son coughed. "No, she was just asking Miss Oswald to sign a few things."

Meanwhile, Martha handed Clara the documents and asked her to put down her signature in several pages. "I need to warn you that your husband will most likely pass out when he gets home, or maybe on the way there."

Clara shot her head up. "What?"

"I gave him some painkillers for the nose since he kept complaining about it."

"Oh, right," she replied, even though that wasn't what caught her attention the most. It was the fact that the doctor thought she was John's wife. Then again, with Max being with them, it did give the idea.

"Your son seems very attached to his father," Martha commented as Clara signed the last page of the document.

"He loves his father very much," she replied, smiling.

"Alright, Mr Smith is free to go," Martha stated.

"Thank you, Dr Jones," the school teacher said as she headed back to the room.

"When can I leave?" John groaned, massaging his temple.

Clara smirked. "Right now, unless you want to stay here."

He opened his eyes and sat up. "Anywhere but here," he grumbled as his son helped him out of bed.

She produced the car keys from her bag and handed it to Max. "Could you start the car – it's parked outside next to the green pole – you can't miss it."

The boy nodded before he hurried over to the open car park while the school teacher wrapped her arm around John. She felt him lean against her.

"You do realise it's ok to show you're not ok in front of your son, right?"

The man huffed. "I don't want him to see me like this."

"It doesn't change anything," she answered softly. "He will still see you as his hero."

John's shoulders sank. He didn't deserve to be seen as one. How can he be a hero when he couldn't even save his wife and daughter? He was snapped out of his thoughts when Clara rubbed his chest.

"Come on, daft man," she coaxed. "Your biggest fan is waiting."

He finally cracked a smile. Somehow, this woman next to him always knew what to say. He should thank his lucky stars for meeting someone like her.

* * *

John collapsed on the sofa the moment they reached home. He felt exhausted.

"Maybe you should lie down in bed, dad," Max suggested as he locked the door.

His father merely groaned in response before closing his eyes. It would seem like he's not going anywhere.

Clara knew that it was time for her to go but she wasn't sure how to do that by making the situation awkward.

"The doctor did warn that he'll pass out," she whispered to the young man.

He glanced back and forth between his father and teacher before looking out the window. Would it be a good idea to let his teacher-slash dad's girlfriend return home in the dark?

"Are you going back to school – it's dark."

Yep. It just got a lot more awkward. The school teacher wished the ground would swallow and teleport her back to her flat. "I think I'll be fine," she said. "Let me just say goodbye to your father."

The boy nodded before he went upstairs to give them some privacy.

Clara slowly sat down next to John who still had his eyes closed. She clasped his hand and caressed it with her thumb.

"Max is right," he murmured. "Maybe you should stay."

She smiled. "How's your nose?"

"Would feel a lot better if I got a kiss," he answered, popping one eye open.

She leaned closer and planted a soft kiss on his broken nose.

"I was hoping for a different kind of kiss."

This time, the school teacher laughed. She then pecked him on the lips. "Better?"

John beamed before he draped an arm over her shoulder and brought her closer to him. "Stay with me?"

Clara rested her cheek against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. "Fine, you win, but if I'm late for work, you're to blame."

"You can take the car if you want to."

She said nothing as her eyes scanned the living room. There were several picture frames above the fireplace. All of them were either of John and Max or just Max. She couldn't spot a single photo of Oswin.

Less than five minutes later, John finally passed out. Clara couldn't help but stare at him. He looked so peaceful.

It was then the sound of footsteps caught her attention and she searched for the source. Max was now dressed in a pair of shorts and t-shirt as went to the kitchen and opened the freezer. He pulled out a box of frozen pizza.

Slowly, Clara freed herself from John's embrace, careful not to wake him before she tiptoed to the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

The teenager shrugged. "I'm heating this pizza – I'm hungry."

Come to think of it, she was famished, too. They didn't eat anything at the hospital while John was being treated. "Right, put it away – I'll cook us something."

He stared at her with wide eyes.

"Where did you put all the groceries your dad bought?"

"Fridge," he answered as he put the frozen pizza away. "You do realise it's fine if I eat frozen pizza, right?"

Clara raised her eyebrows. "Which would you rather have, frozen pizza," she asked. "Or pasta?"

Max didn't need to be asked twice as he shut the freezer. "Can I help?"

The school teacher shook her head. "No, I think I have everything under controlled here," she said, even though she knew that her cooking skills weren't all that great. "Just make sure your dad is alright."

Max nodded as he turned around. Somehow, this all felt familiar to him.

About half-an-hour later, Max and Clara were eating the meal she had cooked.

"How is it?" she asked. "My cooking skills are questionable."

The boy was almost done with his plate. "It's good," he answered, grinning. He was pleasantly surprised how tasty the pasta was. It felt like a homecooked meal.

Clara let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness."

"Are you and dad going to sleep on the sofa?"

"I guess so," she replied. She had a feeling John was going to complain about his back aching when he wakes up.

Max set down the fork he was holding. "I'll get you a duvet."

Twenty minutes later, Clara was back in John's arms, a blanket keeping them warm. She was glad that he was in a deep sleep as it meant he was resting properly.

It was almost midnight and she would need to get some sleep if she plans on waking up early in the morning.

Clara draped an arm over John's torso before she shut her eyes, letting slumber take over as she felt exhaustion creeping up on her. So many things happened today that she couldn't quite comprehend it just yet. They kissed and then Danny showed up. She would have to figure out what to do. For now, it can wait.

Just before she fell asleep, she felt him pulling her closer to him and smiled.


	13. Chapter 13

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Enjoy!_

* * *

 _John Smith was currently in his study, red pen in hand as he was busy marking his students' scripts for a test they had sat for. He had been teaching for about eight years now, and it seems his marking skills need to be improved. He was still taking such a long time going through each page. Then again, maybe he shouldn't have brought home the whole pile._

 _By the time he was done with half of the pile, he heard the sound of his son wailing in the garden and immediately looked up. Silently, he got on his feet and turned around to the window._

 _Four-year-old Max was on the ground, clutching his scraped knee and in tears._

 _Without a moment's hesitation, John raced downstairs and nearly collided with Oswin who was also rushing towards their son. He let her through to the garden first._

" _It's alright," Oswin said gently, embracing the crying child. "I know it hurts, Max."_

 _John got on his knee to check how serious the injury was. "Do you want mummy or daddy to patch you up?"_

 _Max buried his face in his mother's arms. His knee was stinging, and he didn't like the feel of it at all._

 _The parents exchanged looks before Oswin nodded to the kitchen and mouthed 'first aid' to her husband._

" _We should try to bring him inside first," John whispered to her._

 _His wife caressed the boy's hair before she said, "Daddy is going to carry you inside, alright?"_

 _Max nodded, now sobbing._

 _John gently grabbed his son before lifting him up. The boy immediately wrapped his arms around his father's neck._

 _Oswin on the other hand, went back inside to look for the first aid kit._

" _Does it still hurt?" he asked._

 _The child nodded, continuing to sob._

 _John set him down on a chair and a moment later, his wife appeared with some alcohol, a large plaster and a cloth._

" _This might hurt a bit, but just tell me if it's too much, ok, Max?" she murmured, setting alcohol and plaster on the table._

" _Ok," he answered in fear._

 _His mother smiled at him. "You're brave, right?" she asked. "Just like daddy?"_

 _John caressed Max's hair, trying to comfort him. The boy looked up before he nodded._

 _The first time Oswin gently applied the cloth to his wound, the boy winced but he kept a brave face on. Once the cut was cleaned and plaster applied, Max had stopped sobbing altogether._

" _Does it still hurt?" she asked._

 _John couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest. There was just something beautiful about this moment. Whether it was his wife being an incredible mother or his son trying to be brave. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to love these two._

" _No, mummy, it doesn't hurt anymore," Max said quietly._

 _Oswin smiled before she looked up at her husband. "Why don't you and daddy get some ice-cream?"_

 _Max's face immediately lit up._

 _How could he say no to a face like that?_

John opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a brief moment before he realised he had experienced another dream and that he was in the living room, not the bedroom.

The events of the previous day came rushing back to him like a flood. There was the fight with PE and he was taken to the hospital by Max and Clara. The last thing he remembered was passing out on the sofa.

A smile formed on his lips when he felt a weight on his right side. Clara was sleeping on his shoulder, an arm draped over his torso. She was nice enough to drive him to the hospital and back home. Oh, the kiss. They kissed.

John leaned closer before kissing her hair and then glancing at the clock on the wall. It was just two hours after midnight and he had no intention of waking up just yet, so he got comfortable before closing his eyes, returning back to sleep.

* * *

Max was the first to wake up that morning, at 6:30 AM sharp. He felt a bit bad and awkward that his English teacher had to cook a meal for him that he decided to return the favour by buying breakfast from the bakery nearby.

After a quick shower, he got dressed before quietly trodding downstairs, careful not to wake the sleeping figures in the living room. He reached for the house key in the bowl before slowly opening the door and shutting it as gently as he could, minimising the creaking sound it made.

Ten minutes later, he was in the bakery, queuing behind a customer. The last time he went there was probably a few months ago since his father was the one who would usually get breakfast sorted. Once the customer got her order, Max walked up to the cashier.

"For a second there, I thought you were Dr Smith!" said Mr Cooper, the owner of the bakery. "You really are the spitting image of your father, Max."

The young man smiled politely. "Thanks," he said before looking at the display where some freshly baked pastries were being placed.

"What will you have today – the usual?" Mr Cooper asked, getting the tongs.

"Yep, and make it a bit extra today," he answered. "We have a guest."

"Your Aunt Missy isn't in town again, is she?" the baker joked. "She still scares me."

Max chuckled. "No, no, she's not here."

"Ah, I'm guessing this so-called guest is your dad's girlfriend?"

He blinked several times. "How did you know?"

Mr Cooper let out a hearty laugh before placing Max's order on the counter. "I saw them eating here together, but that was months ago," he answered. "A blind person could tell that there was something going on between them – besides, it's usually Dr Smith who comes here."

The teenager pulled out his wallet to pay but the baker stopped him.

"Just consider this to be on the house," he said. "You and your father are regular customers, after all."

"Are you sure about that?" Max asked. "Because I don't mind paying."

"No, please," Mr Cooper insisted, pushing the bag of pastries.

Max smiled. "Thank you, Mr Cooper, I really don't know what to say."

"Tell your father I said congratulations," the baker joked before chuckling.

The teenager grinned before he grabbed the pastries and left. As soon as he returned home, he checked to make sure his dad and teacher were still sleeping before setting the table and brewing some coffee. Once everything was done, he took his plate of breakfast and went upstairs to eat in his room.

Clara was woken by the smell of freshly baked pastries and coffee. She stirred before opening her eyes and smiled when she noticed that John was still knocked out cold. She lifted her head and placed a hand on his face before kissing his cheek.

She checked the time on her phone. 7:30. She still had time before leaving for work. A second later, she felt John shift. "What time is it?"

"Half-seven," she answered, returning to his embrace.

"Did you make breakfast?" he questioned, opening his eyes. "It smells good, just like the pastries from Mr Cooper."

"No," she replied. "I think this was all Max's doing."

John smiled. He made a mental note to thank his son. It was funny how he had to go through the trouble of preparing breakfast. "My back hurts," he complained, sitting upright.

"That's what you get for sleeping on the sofa, silly," Clara commented. "How's your nose?"

He touched it. "Not as bad as it was before."

"You better do what the doctor ordered."

John chuckled before he pecked her on the lips. "Breakfast?"

"Breakfast."

They ate their meals in silence, frequently exchanging shy glances before John decided to talk. "I'm sorry you had to sleep on the sofa," he began. "I don't know what came over me."

Clara shook her head. "I quite enjoy cuddling you."

He blushed and tried thinking of a clever comeback but thankfully, his son walked into the kitchen, holding an empty plate and cup.

"Hi," Max said awkwardly as he placed the dishes in the sink.

"Did you go out and get us breakfast?"

"Yep," he answered. "It's the least I could do after you cooked dinner."

John furrowed his brows and glanced at Clara. "You cooked dinner – how do I not remember this?"

"You were passed out on the sofa," she answered.

"Oh, right."

Max then decided to take his leave, feeling as if he was making things awkward again.

"You didn't have to go through the trouble," John said, feeling bad. "I always frozen food stocked up just in case."

She gave him a look. "You can't expect a starving teenager to eat frozen pizza."

"It's there in case we don't have any food."

"It's unhealthy."

"Fine, you win," he grumbled before he was unable to stop himself from grinning any longer.

Clara checked the time. She would need to leave soon if she didn't want to be late for work. "Are you done with yours?" she asked, nodding at his plate.

John was about to start another argument when she gave him a stern look which told him not to. "Yes," he said in defeat.

She beamed as she took his plate and washed the dishes.

"There's no need for you to do any of this," he reasoned, standing closely next to her.

"No offence, but with a house with two boys, I think I need to," she joked before she felt his arms wrap around her.

"Can I return the favour by driving-"

"No," she answered. "The doctor said you needed to rest and you should listen to her – if I were you, I'd lie down."

John pursed his lips. "Are you always this bossy?" he asked, bringing her closer to him.

"If it gets you to bed, then yes," she replied before realising what she had said. "I mean…"

John was grinning now. "What were you trying to say, Miss Oswald?"

She lightly slapped his chest. "You know what I meant, daft man."

He merely smiled before he bent down and captured her lips in a chaste kiss.

"I have to leave for work," Clara said once she pulled away. "But I'll be back to check on you."

He beamed before she freed herself from his embrace.

"So I better find you resting and not doing anything that's physically restraining."

"Yes, boss," he replied, following her to the living room where she grabbed her belongings.

* * *

When Clara stepped into the teacher's lounge, she had expected to see Danny sitting behind his desk, but to her surprise, he wasn't there. She wasn't sure if she should feel relieved or not because she needed to get a few things sorted out with him.

"Morning Clara," Barbara greeted.

"Morning," she answered, placing her bag on the desk.

"Is everything alright?"

She immediately stopped looking around. "Yeah, fine," she answered. "You haven't seen Mr Pink, have you?"

Barbara knitted her eyebrows. "He hasn't done anything has he?"

"No, this is just a personal matter."

Her colleague shrugged. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen him this morning."

Clara had a feeling that he wasn't coming to work today so she finally relaxed a bit.

Five minutes before her first lesson of the day, she decided to leave and go to the classroom when Danny walked in. He had a black eye and a busted lip. People started to murmur.

She grabbed her belongings before making her way out.

"Clara," he said.

She pressed her lips together and kept her distance.

"Could we talk after work?" he asked, hoping she would be kind enough to agree.

"Yes," she answered. "Meet me at the car park after school."

She had chosen that specific area because it would be full of students and parents during that time.

He nodded. "Alright."

Hours later, Clara stood next to her bike, arms crossed as she patiently waited for her colleague to show up. He had told herself to give him ten minutes and if she doesn't, she would leave.

After standing in the corner of the car park for a while, she spotted Danny walking towards her.

"Hi," he began. "First, I would just like to apologise."

Her facial expression remained neutral.

"I had no idea what was going on in my head yesterday day to have caused me to act in a violent manner and I'm sorry," he explained. "I really don't know what came over me - I crossed the line."

She nodded. "Apology accepted," she said, turning around to grab her helmet.

"There's one other thing," he added.

"What?"

"I'm transferring to a different school," Danny declared. "I'll start working at a school in Sussex in September."

She placed the helmet back on the bike before looking at him properly. He seemed genuinely sorry. "I see, well, I wish you all the best in your new workplace."

"Thank you," he replied.

Danny watched as Clara put on the helmet and got on her bike. Just before she left, he said, "I'm really sorry – I didn't mean to hit him."

She stared at him for a brief moment before nodding and then driving away.

* * *

The moment her bike stopped next to the black Mercedes, Clara saw the front door open. Max was on the phone with someone as he stood in the corridor. He waved at her before pointing at the living room.

The school teacher stepped into the house and the teenager shut the door before running upstairs.

"When exactly is this, Aunt Missy?" she heard him say before her eyes landed on John who was marking on the coffee table.

"Didn't I tell you to rest?"

John smirked. "You didn't say anything about marking."

"It includes marking," she replied, setting her bag and helmet down before sinking next to him on the sofa.

John set down the pen and looked up. "They're not going to mark themselves."

Clara shook her head. "Yes, but they're not going to run away either."

He rested his back against the sofa. "As you can see, I am perfectly fine," he murmured. "How was work – PE didn't give you any trouble, did he?"

She shook her head. "No," she replied. "He said he was sorry and that he was transferring to a different school."

John beamed before he grasped her hand. "Well, at least that's taken care of."

"But you're not."

He groaned. "What do you want me to do – lie down in bed all day?" he asked.

Clara giggled. "Who says you have to be in bed alone?"

"You do realise Max is upstairs, right?" he murmured, leaning closer. She snaked her arms around his neck.

"Exactly," she whispered, pulling him down for a kiss. It was short-lived when they heard Max yell from upstairs.

"Dad!" he said cheerfully, walking down the steps.

John and Clara immediately pulled away and kept some distance between them.

The father cleared his throat. "Yes?"

The young man stared at the couple for a second before he announced, "Aunt Missy asked if I wanted to stay in Oxford for a week with her – she's going to give me a tour of campus."

"When?"

"Fourth week of July – she's away before that."

John stared at Clara for a moment before he came to a decision. "Alright, you can go."

Max grinned before he dialled his aunt's number to tell her the news as he went upstairs.

"You're not thinking what I'm thinking, are you?" the teacher asked.

"Spending a whole week with you alone?"

She smiled. She was thinking of that, and something else. Something much more intimate.


	14. Chapter 14

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Enjoy!_

* * *

"Do you have everything that you need?" John asked as he and his son stood in the corner of Paddington station, waiting for Max's train platform to be announced.

This was the first time his son would be travelling all by himself, without his father by his side. John wanted to make sure he had a safe journey and a fun time at Oxford. It was unbelievable how a month went by quickly.

"Yes, dad," Max answered, chuckling. "I have my toothbrush, shirts, t-shirts, shorts, trousers, charger, phone, wallet, everything."

His father pressed his lips together. "If you need anything, just call me."

"Yes, dad," the teenager answered.

" _Platform 12 for the 17:47 Great Western Railway Service to Oxford."_

Max smiled at his parent. "There's my train."

"Have a great time at Oxford and don't let your aunt tease you so much," John advised as his son picked up the suitcase on the ground.

"I'll try," he said, laughing.

"And text me as soon as you've arrived in Oxford."

"I will – bye dad!"

John waved at his son and watched as he passed the ticket barrier. The moment he couldn't see him any longer, he let out a sigh. Why did his child have to grow up so fast? And he wouldn't be away for long either. Just a week. He couldn't imagine what it would be like when Max moves away to Oxford for nine months.

Halfway through the journey home, his phone rang, and he smiled when reading the name displayed on the screen.

"Did everything go smoothly?" asked Clara on the other end of the line.

"Yep, he seemed really excited," John answered, trying to sound cheerful.

"You're still not worried about him, are you?"

He sighed, standing in the corner of the street. "Is it wrong that I am?"

"Of course, not, you have every right to be worried about your son but let him have a bit of independence," she reasoned.

"I guess you're right."

"Do you still want to come over or do you want me to drive to yours?"

John finally cracked a smile. "No, I'll be there soon, I have to walk home first."

"Just text me when you're on the way so I can start cooking," she said.

"Yes, boss," he answered, chuckling. He then hung up and made his way home.

He knew for a fact that things were starting to get serious with Clara. Not serious enough for him to reveal about Oswin just yet, but they were heading there.

John wasn't sure how he would explain to her about his late wife. Would she be fine with it? Would she get the wrong idea? He was afraid of losing her. He couldn't bear another heartbreak.

* * *

The moment the train came to a halt, Max grabbed his rucksack and stood up before walking towards the doors. He stepped out of the train and made his way to the exit where he spotted his aunt waiting for him on the other side of the ticket barrier.

"How was the journey?" Missy asked once he stood beside her and pulled out his phone.

"Fine," the teenager answered, texting his father. "Had some snacks on the journey."

"Well, come along then, Maximus," his aunt said as he trailed behind her. "Just send a quick text to your old man before you hit someone."

He put his phone away and caught up with her.

"Where would you like to eat?"

Max shrugged. "I feel like a having a burger – GBK sounds good."

Missy couldn't help but smile a bit. She knew exactly what her nephew would order. The chicken burger and a strawberry milkshake.

"How's your father?" she asked casually. Her nephew had informed her that John was involved in a scuffle with his school teacher. "How's he and his girlfriend?"

The young man couldn't help but smile. From what he could tell, his father seemed a lot happier now and he adored his teacher more and more. "They're happy – that's what I could tell."

"So you don't mind having her around then?"

"No, I don't, she's nice," he answered, remembering the time Clara cooked him dinner because she didn't want him to eat frozen food.

Missy could finally relax a bit when it came to her brother. She had initially been worried about him when she first heard that he was dating the English teacher but hearing that Max approved of them eased her mind.

"Anyway, where exactly are you taking me tomorrow?" he asked as they stepped into the restaurant.

"The plan is to show you around your college, St Peter's and then I'll take you to mine," his aunt stated. "As for the rest of the week, we'll tour Oxford, introduce you to some of my postgraduate students and then I'll let you off on your own."

Max beamed. He was sure it was going to be a fantastic week.

* * *

"Hello, you," Clara Oswald murmured when she pulled the front door open, greeting John with a grin.

"Hello," he replied before she got on her toes and pecked him on the lips. Once she pulled away, he produced a small bouquet of irises. "I couldn't come empty handed."

A grin formed on her lips as she examined the flowers. "These are just lovely," she murmured before kissed him again. "Come in."

John stepped inside and squeezed his way through the tiny hallway which led to the living room. There was a cosy feel to it, despite it being small.

"Make yourself at home while I put these in a vase," Clara said as she disappeared into the kitchen. "Dinner should be ready soon."

"Take your time," he answered, scanning the bookshelf which housed several photos. There was one with her parents back when she was a teenager, one with who he assumed was her grandmother and another on her graduation day. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching and turned around.

"I really like this picture of you," he said lightly, pointing at the graduation photo.

The school teacher smiled as she stood next to him. "That was nine years ago," she answered before wrapping her arms around him. "Now I'm curious to see a picture of you wearing your graduation robe."

John grinned. "I don't think you'll be all that impressed."

"Don't sell yourself short," Clara replied before resting her chin on his arm. "Hungry?"

"I'm famished."

After dinner, the couple retreated to the living room to watch a period drama, but either of them was paying any attention.

While Clara was staring directly at the television, her mind was elsewhere, pondering about John. It was funny how that she felt hesitant when she received the offer to teach at Max's school. The pay was certainly much nicer, but it also meant being slightly farther away from home, but she was glad she took the offer. And then she met him.

John glanced at her. "What?" he asked, grinning.

She snuggled deeper into his embrace. "Nothing, just thinking."

He gently caressed her shoulder with his thumb. "About what?"

"You," she murmured before placing a soft kiss on his lips. She felt him move his hands to her face and she took the opportunity to push him down on the sofa, lying on top of him.

He placed a hand on the small of her back to keep her from falling off. When she tried unbuckling his belt, John tensed and grabbed her wrist involuntarily.

Clara pulled away in uncertainty and confusion. He had that look in his eyes again. That same haunted, terrified look she saw the first time they had met.

"Sorry," he mumbled, sitting up. "I… it's just that… I'm sorry…"

John had no idea why he reacted the way he did. He hadn't done this sort of thing in a long time but that wasn't what was bothering him. It was the thought of sleeping with another woman that terrified him. He felt Clara grasp his hand gently and snapped out of his thoughts.

"Don't be," she whispered. "We'll take things slowly, yeah?"

He felt bad. Clara deserved better but all he could do was nod. "You deserve better than this."

She stared at him intently before scooting closer to him. "I think you're just what I deserve."

The troubled man ran a hand through his silver curls before bringing the back of her hand to his lips. "I'm sorry I ruined the evening."

This time, the school teacher laughed. "Nonsense, you brought me flowers and we had a nice dinner."

He smiled at her sadly, contemplating on how to tell her about his past, about Oswin, the accident and everything.

Clara knew what she was getting into after she had read the news article. John had baggage, but that didn't deter her from being attracted to him at all. She didn't mind that he was a single father nor that he was twenty years older than her. She only saw him for who he is; a kind, sweet and loving man.

"John," she murmured, catching his attention. "I'm here if you ever need to talk – whatever it is, I'm willing to listen."

He glanced at her before pulling her in for a hug, startling the school teacher momentarily.

Clara wrapped her arms around him before turning her head a bit to kiss his cheek. She heard him sigh.

"I lost Oswin twelve years ago," he began but she pulled away suddenly.

"Before you go any further, I have a confession to make," she stated. "I knew what happened to your wife since I came across an article about it."

John's eyes were red and teary.

"But don't let it stop you from saying whatever you want to say, and you can start slowly," she said. "You don't have to tell me everything tonight."

He swallowed the lump in his throat before pulling her down to him gently as he lied down on the sofa.

"Take as much time as you need," she whispered. "I'm here."

After about a minute of silence, John spoke again. "She was seven months pregnant when I lost her – the doctor couldn't even save the baby – Max and Missy were all I had after that."

Years of bottling up his emotions and keeping everything to himself were finally going to be set loose but he still didn't have the courage to tell her about the rest just yet.

Clara intertwined her hand with his while her ear was pressed to his chest, just right above his heart.

"Most of the time… I wonder if I'm a good father to Max," he confessed, and she immediately lifted her head.

"Why would you think that?" the teacher asked, furrowing her brows.

"I feel useless without Oswin… she was a much better parent than I was."

Clara shook her head before resting her head above his beating heart. "A blind man could see how great of a father you are to Max – like I said, he looks up to you – you're his hero – if you have any doubts, just remember that he's going to Oxford."

Finally, John smiled as he recalled a past event. "There was this one time he was asked to write what he wanted to be when he grew up."

"And let me guess, he said he wanted to be just like you."

"Yes," John agreed. "I still have the essay in my work bag."

Maybe he would tell Clara about Oswin some other time. When he finally has the courage to. He couldn't ruin the moment again and revisit that horrible incident. There was a voice at the back of his mind screaming at him to tell her about his late wife, how much Clara resembled her, but he brushed it away. It could wait. He didn't want to face it right now.

"How do you feel?" she asked after a while.

"A bit better," he replied, smiling again before he leaned forward and captured her lips. The kiss started off slow and innocent before John deepened it. He needed to learn to move instead of continuing to be trapped in the past.

Slowly, he pulled away, hands gently holding Clara's face, basking in the sight of her. He glanced at the bedroom door and she immediately caught on.

"Do you want to continue-"

John didn't let her finish as he placed his lips on hers again, before sitting up, back resting against the armrest while she undid the buttons of his shirt. Halfway through, Clara pulled away before standing up and he followed suit, panting.

She reached for his hand before guiding him to the bedroom, eyes locked.

John shut the door with his free hand once they were inside. He had hoped she didn't notice that his hand was shaking.

Silently, she placed both hands on his chest before she got on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him closer to her as she kissed him.

Instinctively, he guided her to the bed before pinning her down on the mattress, as his lips trailed down to her neck.

"Clara," he moaned when she began fiddling with the belt. His hands hastily tried to get rid of the blouse she was wearing.

Clara smiled when she heard the sound of the belt unbuckle. She could feel how hard he was.

As she reached for him, he stopped and stared straight at her. "I don't have any protection," he whispered awkwardly.

"Pill," she answered before their mouths met again. She moaned in approval when she felt his hand massage one of her breasts.

Once John successfully undressed Clara, he removed the rest of his clothes, discarding them to the floor.

They stared at each other for a brief moment before she nodded, and he entered her, earning a gasp of pleasure.

That night, John Smith slept soundly. No nightmares haunted him. No memories of the past flooding his mind. Just peaceful slumber. For the first time in twelve years, he felt content. His arms were wrapped securely around Clara Oswald, who was spooned against him, a smile playing on her lips as she slept. Just two people who were in love with each other and at peace.


	15. Chapter 15

_Thank you so much for your support! Let's see where things go from here_.

* * *

John Smith fluttered his eyes open when the sunlight shone directly at his face. He squeezed them shut again before burying his nose in the hair of the sleeping figure he held in his arms. He couldn't remember the last time he had a good sleep. For once, John felt well rested and more than anything else, he wanted to return to slumber, especially when it felt so good to have the woman lying next to him in his arms.

A moment later, he felt Clara roll over, facing him, but he kept his eyes closed. She placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips before hiding her face in the crook on his neck, beaming.

John couldn't possibly go back to sleep now. He opened his eyes before smiling at the woman in his embrace.

"Good morning, sleepy head," she said, grinning.

"Good morning," he murmured, drinking in the sight of her. Her hair was all over the place and her lips were still swollen. He wouldn't mind waking up like this. "You look gorgeous."

Clara kissed his bare chest. "Oh, stop it, nobody looks like a princess when they wake up."

"I never said that," he replied. "I just think you look beautiful, even with your hair everywhere like this."

"Are you trying to seduce me?" she asked. "Because it's working."

John gave her a boyish grin before leaned forward and captured her lips in a lazy kiss. He rolled over and climbed on top of her as his hand disappeared under the covers.

After their second time, he collapsed next to her, both panting slightly. They stared at each other before breaking into quiet laughter. Clara rested her head on his chest.

They lay in each other's arms until John finally spoke. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked, drawing patterns with her finger on his skin.

"For listening to my woes, for being understanding, for being Clara, I guess."

She shook her head. "You don't have to thank me, daft man."

Just as John was about open his mouth, the sound of a ringing phone echoed in the room.

"That's Max," he said as he hastily climbed out of bed and reached for the trousers lying on the floor.

Clara on the other hand, propped herself up using her elbow as she was enjoying the view. "I don't see why you're panicking – it's just a phone call."

"Video call," he corrected, and her smile immediately dropped.

She looked around for his shirt and spotted it on the other side of the bed before tossing it to him. "Just put this on."

John quickly put on the wrinkled shirt before answering the video call. He saw Max grinning into the camera.

"Dad, dad!"

He couldn't help but chuckle at his son's enthusiasm. "What is it?"

"Aunty Missy got me a drone for my birthday!" the teenager said before he showed his father his new toy.

"Oh, did she now?" he chuckled, making sure to get the bed out of view. "Yes, I can see it."

"It's awesome!" his son exclaimed.

"Alright, kiddo, how's Oxford?"

Max turned the camera back to him. "Great – Aunt Missy is going to show me around in an hour."

"Right, I just woke up, so I'll talk to you soon, yeah?"

The teenager arched a brow before he shrugged. "Yeah, I'll send you some pictures, bye dad!"

"Bye, Max," he murmured before ending the call.

John returned to bed and took off the shirt before dropping it next to the mattress. "What?" he questioned when he noticed Clara was staring at him with a grin.

"I don't know what I find more attractive – your dad skills or your arse."

He blushed before scratching the back of his head. "Why not both?"

Without another word, Clara pulled him down to her and crashed their lips together.

* * *

"How did you know he wouldn't be at home?" Max asked his aunt in amazement.

Missy merely shrugged as she brought the cup of tea to her lips. "I'm your aunt and your father's sister."

He initially didn't believe her when she had told him his father was likely with Miss Oswald. Then again, she was always good at playing the guessing game. She certainly had chosen the right present for him as he had been saving money to buy a drone of his own. "Thanks for the drone, by the way," he said, fiddling with the controller.

"Don't mention it," she replied before checking the time. "Just get that toy of yours set up and then we can leave – Professor Saxon wants to give you a personal tour of St Peter's."

Her nephew shot her a look. "Why is it him and not you?" he asked. He had nothing against the academic. After all, Professor Saxon and Professor Masters were the ones who interviewed him. "Please tell me you're not into him."

Missy rolled her eyes. "Maximus Dougan Smith, that is the most disturbing thing I've heard coming from you," she said. "It's the other way around - he thinks I'll agree to go to dinner with him by being nice to you."

"My future isn't at stake, is it?"

"No, nothing to worry about."

An hour and a half later, Harold Saxon was showing Max around the college.

"And this here is the dining hall," the professor said as they stepped inside before checking the time. "Lunch usually starts at noon which is why the place is still empty."

The teenager looked around the empty dining hall, taking a couple of pictures.

"Once you're done snapping photos, I'll show you the library."

Max grinned. "Cool, so is Professor Masters based here too?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure where he is at the moment and speaking of people, do you think you could put in a good word for me to your aunt?"

The young man stared at the professor for a moment before he slowly said, "Sure."

Harold and Missy had met about ten years ago. He had first realised he had feelings for her when she yelled at him for apparently being incompetent. Since then, she had taken a dislike for him, but the feeling wasn't mutual, obviously. Fear is a powerful aphrodisiac as they say.

"You do realise you could ask her out, right?"

The professor laughed. The last time he went near her, she had pushed him against a wall.

An hour later, the tour finished, and Max headed back to where Missy was based Balliol College. While waiting for his aunt in the Fellows Garden, a person approached him and said, "Is the seat next to you occupied?"

He looked up from the phone and stared directly at a young woman who was probably the same age as him. His mind went blank. "Uh… yes, I mean no."

She stared at him with a confused look before taking her seat on the bench while Max immediately glued his eyes to the phone he held in his hand.

"Are you a student here?" she asked.

He glanced at her. "I might be – have to get the grades first."

Her eyes lit up. "So you're visiting too, then?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"I'm Sarah by the way."

"Max," he replied awkwardly. "So what, um, you know... which course did you apply for?"

Sarah smiled. "History," she answered. "You?"

"Maths."

"You must be really smart, I'm just not that great with numbers," she commented.

He chuckled nervously. "Don't sell yourself short – you got an offer from Oxford, after all."

While the two were chatting Missy and Professor Masters were on their way to the garden.

"It's not like you were trying to sell your ridiculous idea of building a man-eating chair again," she remarked.

"Yes, keep making fun of me, Missy," he growled. "For the record, I only came up with that suggestion because I was slightly intoxicated and was fed up with that idiot taking up so much space."

Missy came to a halt when she spotted her nephew talking to a girl. Professor Masters arched a brow. "Why have we stopped?"

"Because this is quite interesting," she replied, amused.

It was then Max glanced in their direction and immediately sat up.

"Look, I have to go, my aunt's here," he said. "It was nice talking to you."

The young man had contemplated asking for her number. Maybe he should or maybe he shouldn't. Should he?

Sarah stood up. "It was nice talking to you, too – we should stay in contact," she suggested.

Max reluctantly pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

"I'm also giving you my twitter."

It seems like he would have to open an account.

She handed back his phone. "Thanks," he said quietly, looking at her name 'Sarah Foreman'.

They parted ways and Max hoped she wouldn't tease him too much about it.

"Professor Masters," he greeted, shaking hands.

"Maximus," he replied. "How do you find Oxford so far?"

"It's great," he said, quickly glancing at his aunt who had a smug look on her face.

Two hours later, Missy and Max were on their way back home. The journey had been a quiet affair and the young man was beginning to wonder why his aunt hadn't started bombarding with questions.

"Aren't you going to ask me what happened?"

She smiled. Just like his father. "I was just waiting for you to point it out."

Max pressed his lips together. She won, again.

"I was actually quite surprised you got her number – didn't think you'd get over Bill."

Max's eyes widened in shock. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Nephew dearest, I've known you since the day you were born and even diapered your bottom so of course, I would know if you have a crush on her."

He eventually sighed. "You're right, I did have a crush on Bill."

"So why haven't you given that girl your number?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. There was an incident that happened back when they were in their early teens.

"You can tell me."

"No."

"I'll tell Bill then."

"Bill and I kissed when we were 13 and that was when she found out she was gay – I made her gay," he confessed.

Missy laughed out loud.

"It's not funny," her nephew growled.

"Max, that's not how it works – you didn't do anything wrong," she explained. It made sense why he was so scared of getting a girlfriend. "You're so much like your old man."

"What do I do now?" he asked, feeling slightly better. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Call the girl," Missy advised. She shook her head. She remembered giving John the same advice when Oswin had given him her number.

"Look on the bright side, though," she continued. "If she's not into you, at least you have an expensive drone to cheer you up."

* * *

The week went by quickly. Before anyone knew it, it was Saturday and Max would return the next day. John had wanted to spend as much time with Clara as possible and cook her a nice meal, which was exactly what he did that evening. He had been rehearsing for the past few days to tell her more about Oswin and could only hope it would turn out fine on his side, as well as hers.

"I could really get used to this," Clara murmured as she snuggled John. They retreated to the sofa after finishing their meals. A bottle of opened wine sat on the coffee table.

John grinned at her. "That makes it the two of us," he said before leaning down to kiss her.

She grabbed the collar of his shirt and brought him closer to her, savouring the taste of his lips.

He pinned her down on the sofa, kissing her hard when he felt her unbutton his shirt. The moment his lips moved to her jaw, trailing down to her neck, Clara spoke, "Maybe we should move."

John paused before he pulled away slightly. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted nothing more than to continue but a tiny part of him still felt as if he was still betraying Oswin.

She placed a tender hand on his cheek. "The bedroom, because I don't think the sofa will be kind to your back, just like what happened two days ago."

"Yes, right," he murmured recalling the incident before reluctantly untangling himself from her.

Clara noticed his hesitation and reached for his hand. "Unless you're not comfortable with it…"

He stared at her. He was being an idiot again when she is so patient and understanding. "You're right," he said, helping her up and never letting go of her hand as he guided her upstairs.

They stopped in front of the master bedroom door before John turned around. One hand was on the door handle, his mind was somewhere else.

She caressed his hand. "If you're-"

John crashed his lips to her before pushing the door open, pulling her in and shutting the door closed with a foot. Clara wasted no time kissing him back while her hands undid the final buttons of his shirt.

His mind had completely forgotten about everything else except Clara when he heard her moan as he lifted her up slightly before pinning her against the wall as their lips never separated.

Later that night, Clara laid in John's arms, unable to get much sleep. Her mind wasn't plagued with troubling thoughts, to say the least, but she was beginning to get a bit worried about John. The last time he had opened up about his wife was almost a week ago, when he spent the night in her flat.

He hadn't mentioned anything about Oswin since and Clara could see the guilt and stress in his eyes returning.

She kissed his bare chest before staring at the sleeping man. He looked utterly peaceful and content when he was asleep like this.

Her eyes then scanned the dimly lit bedroom. It was simply decorated. There weren't any pictures on the drawer or bedside table.

Clara made a mental note to remind him that she was there for him and willing to be a shoulder to cry on. As she shut her eyes, she felt John stir in his sleep before he started breathing heavily.

"Oswin…"

She snapped her eyes opened.

"Oswin," he yelled, face contorted in grief and pain.

Clara immediately sat up and switched on the lamp. John was now thrashing in his sleep. "John, wake up."

"No, no!" he screamed before she shook him awake and he opened his eyes.

John panted, trying to control his breathing before he glanced to his left and stared at the woman next to him.

She placed a hand on his face. "You had a nightmare."

He still didn't utter a single word, only staring at her as if he had seen a ghost before pulling her to him and burying his face in her hair.

"It's my fault," he said. "It's my fault," he repeated before sobbing.

Clara said nothing as she buried her fingers in his silver curls. She wasn't sure what he was blaming himself for. Did he blame himself for his wife's death? Why would he think that?

A few minutes later, John went quiet and she had suspected he had fallen asleep again. Silently, she pulled the covers back up before planting a kiss on his forehead.

She would have to tread very carefully over this tomorrow morning.


	16. Chapter 16

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Enjoy! :)_

* * *

Clara Oswald was woken by the sensation of a pair of lips trailing down her spine. She sighed at the feeling, allowing John to worship her body before memories of the previous night came flooding back to her. She shot her eyes open before taking a moment to choose the right words.

Just after kissing her lower back, John rested his head on the pillow next to her.

She rolled over before smiling kindly at him. "Hi."

"Hello."

He granted her a small smile before reaching for her hand. They stared at each other silently before he spoke, "Clara," he began. "About last night…"

She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"There's no need for you to apologise," she replied. "Would you at least like to talk about it – you were screaming in your sleep."

He looked away and she gently tilted his head towards her. "I don't know where to begin…"

"Why did you say it was your fault?" she asked softly.

John sighed before he closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to control his emotions. "Because it is, I could have stopped it."

Clara furrowed her brows. "I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"Oswin wanted to water Mrs Tucker's plants since the family was away – they live across the street and I had told that… I wouldn't mind going there – she needed to rest anyway, but… she insisted on doing things on her own," he explained quietly, eyes watery. "If I had been a bit more persistent…"

She placed a hand on his cheek. "John, it was by no means your fault."

"It feels like it," he confessed. "I could have stopped her."

Clara scooted closer to him. "It wasn't your fault – there was nothing you could have done to prevent it… even if you switched places with her that day, Max wouldn't have an amazing father today."

He blinked several times as he had never thought about it that way before. Would Oswin have coped without him? What about their children?

"Losing someone you love… it's the story of everybody," she continued.

John stared at her intently. "What do I do?"

"You forgive yourself – it was never your fault."

He remained silent, processing her words carefully, and never letting go of her hand. The past 12 years had been difficult for him. The nightmares, guilt, being a single father.

Clara placed a tender kiss on his lips. "Look at what you've accomplished – you raised Max by yourself and he's following in your footsteps, you recently got a professorship, and you have a son who loves you – forgive yourself."

John's eyes became watery again. She had a point. She is right. The accident wasn't his fault. "Alright, I will try."

"And finally, I will always be here for you."

He finally smiled before bringing the back of her hand to his lips. He uttered a quiet thank you before pondering if now was the right time to deliver his promise. He was sure now more than ever that he loves Clara.

He opened his mouth to speak when they heard a voice from downstairs.

"Dad!"

The couple stared at each other for a second before they heard Max's voice calling his father again.

"What time is it?" John asked hastily. "He wasn't supposed to be home until after two."

Clara reached for her phone and checked the time. "Two to eleven, I guess he caught an early train."

He immediately climbed out of bed, collected his clothes and put them on.

"What are you so worried about?" she asked, chuckling as she dressed.

"I don't want my son to know what happened," he replied, fixing the collar of his shirt.

Clara stifled a grin when she saw that he was wearing a shirt inside out. Max would figure out what his father had been up to when she sees him anyway, regardless of his appearance.

John gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I'll distract him first while you, you know, get dressed," he said before leaving him the room.

She shook her head as she watched him trod downstairs with his hair sticking out everywhere.

John blocked Max's path just as the teenager was about to place one foot on the step. "Hey, kiddo, you got here early."

The boy looked up and stared at his father with a confused expression on his face.

"Well John, I have to say, you look like you had a wild night last night," Missy commented.

Fuck.

"What are you doing here?" John asked, trying to sound normal.

His sister looked at him smugly. She knows. She bloody knows. "Just thought I'd pay you a visit and take everyone out for lunch."

Max furrowed his brows as he watched his father trying very hard to act natural, but he wasn't. "Dad, I need to drop my bags so can I go upstairs – oh, hello," he said casually when Clara appeared behind John.

The school teacher was now properly dressed and looked radiant, the remnants of last night completely hidden or gone.

"Hi, Max."

The teenager walked past them as if there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Missy's sarcastic smile grew wider. "Well, don't just stand there like an idiot whose shirt is inside out," she commented before glancing at Clara. "Max has been talking about you a lot – it's no surprise since his father doesn't even talk about the weather."

Clara laughed in embarrassment before she ran a hand down John's arm and walking past him to greet his sister.

They chatted for a few minutes while he stood on the staircase, feeling slightly puzzled how well the two women were getting along. He was sure Missy would be asking questions.

"John here barely talks about anything – it's finally nice to know he's back in the dating department again," his sister commented, smirking. "But here's a little secret; he's always had crushes on teachers."

"Missy," he growled while Clara giggled.

She looked at him innocently before glancing at Clara. "I'm taking Max out for lunch – would you and John care to join us?"

Clara smiled before turned to look at him. "That sounds lovely."

"Somebody should do something about his appearance, though – people will get the wrong idea."

The school teacher coughed to hide her laughter before returning upstairs and dragging John away who was still glaring at his sister.

* * *

The four had lunch at Capaldi's as Missy knew how much her nephew loved the ice-cream they serve.

John and Clara were seated next to one another, with him dressed in a fresh set of clothes, but that still didn't deter his sister from occasionally pulling his leg.

They chatted about everything from Max's time Oxford to John and Clara to Max explaining that the person his aunt despises has a crush on her.

After lunch, Missy bid farewell and made her way to Paddington station to catch her train back to Oxford. Max, on the other hand, told his father he would be taking the tube home since wanted to visit Forbidden Planet.

So, it was just John and Clara in the car now as they headed to her flat.

"Your sister seems nice," the schoolteacher commented.

He gave her a look before focusing back on the road. "Oh, she's nice to you but she's mean to me."

"She's just teasing you, John."

"It's really embarrassing," he grumbled before parking the car by the side of the road and killing the engine.

"That's the whole point of teasing someone," Clara said, chuckling as she stepped out of the car. "You coming?"

He pondered for a moment. Max wasn't going to be home until two hours later so why not. John unbuckled the seat belt before stepping out of the vehicle.

The couple made their way to the flat and once they were inside, Clara turned around, placed her hands on his chest and pecked John on the lips.

"How do you feel?"

He blew air between his lips. "If I'm completely honest, a bit better."

She beamed. "It's something – I know this isn't something that takes a day to go away, but it seems like you were heading in the right direction."

John wrapped his arms around her. "What makes you say that?"

"You didn't tense when driving past your neighbour's house."

He furrowed his brows. "What?"

"You tend to grip the steering wheel," Clara stated as she led him to the living room before they settled on the sofa.

He had never noticed that before. How long had he been doing that? He was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt her reach for his hand. "What else do you notice?"

"You have this look in your eyes – I can't really explain it but when we first met, you were looking at me and yet you weren't."

He took a sharp intake of breath. He was just getting over to forgiving himself and to talk about Oswin on the same day would be too much for him. The timing didn't feel right. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"Stop apologising so much," she said, laughing. She thought it was best to change the subject. "Speaking of home, did you notice something about Max?"

John raised his eyebrows. "Uh… he seems happy?"

She arched a brow. "Yeah, but there's more to it."

He stared at her, confusion written all over his face until Clara started laughing.

"I think he has a girlfriend."

"What makes you say that?" he asked, amazed.

She grinned. "While you were busy talking to Missy, I noticed that Max kept looking at his phone and smiling."

John still wasn't entirely convinced. "Well, that could mean anything."

"It could but I've dealt with that same sort of look lots of time in the classroom – he has a girlfriend, or at least, is interested in someone."

"Well, I can confidently say it's not Bill," he said, wrapping an arm around Clara. He glanced at the window and noticed it had started raining.

"No, probably a girl he just met."

He smiled. "I wonder if he'll be as lucky as me."

Clara pulled away from him slightly. "Back to being charming, I see."

John grinned at her. "What's wrong with being charming?"

She leaned closer and kissed him on the lips. "Nothing, I quite like it."

* * *

Three hours later, John was back home. As he drove past the Tucker's, he looked at his hands on the steering wheel. They weren't tensed. He had always felt slightly uncomfortable when passing the house but today, he barely felt it, let alone be reminded of what took place 12 years ago.

Silently, he parked the car in front of his home, killed the engine and as he stepped out, heard Bill scream angrily at his son from the back garden.

"You think you're so funny, don't you?!"

Max started laughing loudly. "It was just a prank."

"I thought there was a massive bug in my room, you idiot!"

John shut the door, shaking his head and unable to hide the smile on his face. Once he stepped inside, he was greeted by the sight of Max carrying his new toy in one hand, grinning.

"I think the whole of London could hear Bill yell at you," he commented.

The teenager chuckled before setting the drone next to the armchair. "The window was open, so I thought, why not?" he replied before taking a seat. "I'm going to try and do it again tomorrow morning."

"She might actually kill you."

"Can't spell funeral without fun."

John chuckled. "You're all smiles and happy ever since you got back."

"I could say the same thing about you, dad," Max answered, smirking. "So are the two of you like, officially a couple now?"

The father cleared his throat. "Yes, I suppose so…"

The young man nodded before he continued. "Does this mean she's going to be here more often – not that there's anything wrong with that, but I really like the pasta she cooked."

John finally relaxed. He had thought his son had changed his mind about his relationship with Clara. "Yes, well, I will let Clara know when I see her."

"When is that?"

"When I see her," the father teased.

"Dad," Max groaned.

"Alright, alright, I have a date with her in two days, but I'll see what I can do," he said before sitting opposite of the boy. John needed to get it off his chest for good. "Listen, Max, there's something I want to talk about."

He stared at his father cautiously before he nodded.

"Do… do you blame me for what happened?"

The teenager furrowed his brows. "Blame you for what?"

"The accident."

"Why would I blame you for that?" he asked, feeling more confused.

John licked his lips. His throat felt dry. "Because if I had tried harder, I could have stopped your mother from going out that day."

Max looked away, pondering until he looked down at his own two hands. He shook his head. "Is this why you kept having those nightmares?"

John nodded. "For the most part, yes," he answered quietly.

His son then stood up, sat next to his father and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dad, why would you blame yourself – that's ridiculous – I never saw it that way – it wasn't your fault."

The father looked out the window. "I know, I've only just realised that – I just wanted to tell you."

Max couldn't be more thankful that Miss Oswald came into their lives. He really hopes they stay together. "Dad."

John turned his head.

"I may not know much about girls, but Miss Oswald is one in a billion – don't lose her."

He finally smiled. "I don't plan on to."


	17. Chapter 17

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Well, folks, the storm's finally here. Enjoy!_

* * *

 _One Month Later_

Clara Oswald stirred in her sleep when the sound of an alarm coming from the bedside table rang loudly in the room. She reached out an arm before looking for the phone with her eyes closed. Once she found it, she cracked one eye opened and silenced the alarm. 7:45 AM. Today was the day A-level results come out and coincidentally, Max's birthday.

The school teacher placed the phone back on the bedside table before rolling over and smiling at the sight of the sleeping man next to her. It had been a month since he had opened up about the accident and the nightmare. Since then, John had started to talk more and more about it. He had told her how difficult the funeral was for him, the nights he spent crying over the loss of his wife and daughter and his struggles with raising Max all by himself.

Clara had noticed that the more he talked about it, the less susceptible he was to suffer from nightmares. So far, he had only experienced three in the past month rather than it being daily.

Regardless, she felt as if there was something more he had wanted to tell her. He had a look in his eyes, a guilty look of some sort but she didn't want to push him.

Silently, she scooted closer before planting a kiss on his neck. "John, wake up."

He inhaled deeply before groaning and draping an arm over her, bringing her to his chest.

For the past few weeks, her stay at the Smith household had become frequent. John had even suggested leaving some of her belongings here, so she didn't have to constantly run back to her flat.

"As much as I would love to lie in bed with you, we have to get the surprise ready," she said and giggled when she felt him trace her spine with a finger. "Besides, I have to get ready for work."

"Let's just lie down for a few more minutes," John suggested with a sleepy voice, eyes still closed.

She complied, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms and after a moment, she kissed his cheek. "Your five minutes are up."

He finally opened his eyes. "Shame," he said, watching her climb out of bed.

Clara reached for the robe. "Oh, stop looking at me like that – we'll have plenty of time to cuddle," she laughed.

"Not really what I was thinking," he replied, smirking.

She grabbed the pillow and tossed it at him. Both were now grinning at each other. "You need to get dressed."

"I am dressed, in my pyjamas," he answered, sitting up.

Clara sat next to him, on the edge of the bed, trying hard not to laugh. "I meant getting ready to drive us to school."

John ran a hand down her arm, smiling. "Yes, boss."

She pecked him on the lips before rising to her feet and leaving the bedroom, making her way to Max's bedroom.

Clara knocked on the door. "Max, are you awake?"

The only answer she got was a groan.

"Your A-level results come out today."

She heard him utter a yes and decided to leave it at that before heading downstairs to cook breakfast.

While she was standing by the stove, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. She took in the scent of John and his aftershave.

"It smells good," he whispered to her ear before planting a kiss on her neck, causing Clara's smile to grow.

"John, stop it," she said, giggling before switching off the stove and turning in his arms. "Max is going to walk in at any moment."

"He's still in his room," he replied as he bent down and captured her lips.

"Has anybody seen my blue hoodie?" Max yelled from upstairs.

The couple pulled away slightly before John spoke, "Check the drawer."

A second later, they heard the teenager yell, "I found it!"

"I'm just going to the car to get his present," John murmured before freeing Clara from his embrace.

Ten minutes later, all three were having breakfast together at the kitchen table. Max couldn't help but notice that something was up as his father and teacher kept exchanging looks with one another.

"So… when are we leaving?" he asked, taking a bite of a piece of toast.

The couple glanced at each other before smiling. "Soon-ish," his father replied and stood up. "Before that, happy birthday, kiddo," he said and hugged the teenager.

"Happy birthday, Max," Clara said, getting on her toes to hug him as he was so tall. Almost taller than John.

"Thank you," Max said.

"Of course, a birthday wouldn't be complete without a present, we got you something," his father explained, pulling something from the garden.

The young man had his jaw dropped when he saw the guitar case. "No…"

"Your dad told me you love playing the guitar, so we decided to get one for you," Clara explained.

"And I can finally have the guitar to myself again and serenade to you," John joked, grinning at her.

Max had a wide smile on his face as he slowly opened the case and let out a laugh when he saw the Fender electric guitar sitting in there. "I honestly don't know what to say… thank you," he murmured before hugging them both. It had to be one of his best birthdays yet.

An hour later, the trio was on their way to school. Max sat in the back seat, the grin that was plastered on his face earlier was now replaced with a neutral expression. He was sure he did well, but he couldn't help but feel slightly anxious.

The moment the car came to a halt in the parking lot, John turned around and glanced at his son. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit scared," the teenager confessed.

"It's going to be alright," Clara assured before she checked her phone. "I need to go – they just got the box," she said before kissing John on the cheek and stepping out.

Father and son remained in the vehicle.

"Are you ready?"

Max looked out the window before he silently nodded. The moment he got out, he spotted Bill waving at him and he waved back.

"You look nervous, birthday boy," Bill commented as the two made their way to the school hall. John trailed behind.

"Yeah, a bit – I'm surprised you're not."

She merely shrugged. "Who says I'm not?"

The two laughed together.

"Anyway, things are getting way more serious with dad and Miss Oswald, eh?"

"I'm sure they're looking forward to me moving out," Max joked.

"You do realise dad's probably going to be in tears right when that happens."

The young man rolled his eyes. "I'm just moving to a different city – not a planet and speaking of moving, you sure about staying here and going to UCL?"

Bill nodded. "Saves me trouble and money of having to find a place to rent and all that stuff."

The two teenagers waited patiently to collect their envelopes and it wasn't until an hour later when they did.

Max was now standing next to his father, outside the hall as he held the very thing in his hands that would decide his future. He glanced at his father who smiled reassuringly at him.

He opened the envelope and pulled out the slip before reading through it carefully. The next thing he did was jumping in joy. "Yes!" he exclaimed.

John grinned. "What did you get?"

"4A*s!" Max replied before hugging his father.

"I'm so proud of you, Max," John murmured, patting the boy's back. "Congratulations, Mr St. Peter's."

"I'm going to look for Bill," he said before running back into the hall.

John spotted Clara chatting with a parent and waved at her. Once she was done, the school teacher walked towards him. "I think the whole school knows how happy your son is right now, Mr Smith."

"Well, he deserves it and you deserve a praise, too, Miss Oswald," John replied, beaming. "We're probably going to celebrate at the usual place – would you like to come?"

Clara smiled. "I would love to."

Max then returned with Bill. "Guess who's going to be your new physics student, dad," she said as John congratulated her.

"I'm looking forward to it," he commented. "What did you get?"

"3A*s and an A," she answered.

"Congratulations, both of you," Clara said.

"Thanks, Miss Oswald, and for the record, you're probably one of the best teachers we've ever had," Bill remarked before hugging her teacher. "I got to make some phone calls now – see you later, Max!"

"Bye," he said before staring at his father and teacher. "I'm a bit hungry…"

The couple laughed.

"You're always hungry," John replied.

The trio left school once Clara was done for the day and while having lunch, Max thought it was best to tell his father about his upcoming plans. He had recently found out that there was a gaming expo in York which was going to give an exclusive preview of a new game and he made the decision to go there.

"Dad," he said.

"Yes?"

"So there's this gaming expo in York next week," he began. "And it's two days long… can I go – I've already got the hotel and travel expenses sorted out."

John arched a brow. "When exactly?"

"Saturday and Sunday – I'll be back in London on Monday."

His father thought about it for a moment before glancing at Clara who had a twinkle in her eyes. "Alright – yes, you can go."

Max furrowed his brows when he saw the look on his father's face but decided to shrug it off. "Thanks, dad," he said, beaming.

* * *

"Hello," John murmured as Clara stepped into the vehicle. The grin on his face only grew wider when he saw the dress she was wearing.

"Hello to you too, handsome," she said, pecking him on the lips.

He placed a hand on her cheek before she could pull away and deepened the kiss. Tomorrow, he was going to tell her everything. Everything about Oswin. It was well due, and she deserves to know, especially when he was planning on asking her to move in with him.

"I think we should stop before we're late," Clara whispered, pulling away slightly.

"I was hoping we could just skip dinner all together," John joked.

The school teacher laughed as she buckled her seatbelt. "You'll have dessert when we get home."

Dinner had been enjoyable for the both of them with Clara telling him about the plans for her students at the start of next month and John updated her about Max's shenanigans and also his work life.

Once dinner was over, he drove her back to his place and he wasted no time kissing her the moment the front door shut with a reassuring click.

The kiss was slow and gentle, as John held Clara's face with both hands. He guided her upstairs to the bedroom, discarding items of clothing without a care in the world on the way there.

They landed on the bed, with her beneath him and he pulled away to drink in the sight of her. Face flushed, breathing heavily, lips swollen, eyes wide and full of nothing but love. John felt as if he was on fire and alive at that very moment. He hadn't felt that way in a very long time.

He smiled at her before he kissed her. His lips then trailed from the corner of her mouth to her jaw and down her neck.

"John," she moaned, clawing his back.

When they joined together and were in sync with one another, John heard three words he hadn't expected to hear that night.

"I love you," Clara whispered, causing him to pause briefly.

He pushed back the hair covering her sweat-ridden face. "Clara, my Clara," he murmured as she pulled him down to her in a slow kiss.

The next morning, at around sunrise, Clara Oswald was woken up by a pair of strong arms wrapping around her. She could feel the heat radiating from the man lying next to her and smiled. She never felt so content.

"Did you sleep well?" John whispered, kissing her shoulder.

"Very," she answered, eyes still closed.

"I have something to tell you," he said. "Well, ask."

Clara opened her eyes and rolled over, so she could face him.

He thought it was best to ask her to move in with him first before telling her about Oswin. "Max will be moving to Oxford next month and since well, you already have some of your belongings here, how about you move in with me?"

She placed a hand on his cheek. "I'd love to," she murmured before leaning forward and pecking him on the lips.

John beamed before he kissed her forehead. He'd make her breakfast first to practice his lines one more time. "Breakfast?"

Clara sat up but was immediately pulled down into his embrace.

"I never said you had to cook – why don't we have breakfast in bed?" he suggested.

She giggled. "Is this going to be a normal thing once I move in?"

"Maybe," he teased, climbing out of bed and retrieving the pair of boxers on the floor.

After lying down for a while, Clara decided to check up on John. She got out of bed and searched for the shirt he wore last night and found it right in front of the staircase.

As she was about to make her way downstairs, she decided to check her phone first.

Clara reached for the phone on the bedside table. A second later, it slipped out of her grasp and slid underneath the frame of the bed.

She knelt down and extended her arm to look for it and found something else, too. It felt like a small box. The school teacher pulled out her phone before taking out the square flat box. It was dusty. Very dusty, as if it had been sitting under the bed for a long time.

Clara knew that it wasn't any of her business to know what was inside the box, but she was curious. Why had it been there for so long? She took off the lid and was greeted by a stack of pictures.

The top of the pile was John holding a newborn Max. The second picture was a picture of Max celebrating his first birthday. Clara continued to browse through until she got to the 12th photo. The smile playing on her lips disappeared. She felt her heart skip a beat, too.

It was a young John and a pregnant woman, who had her arms wrapped around him. The woman looked exactly like her. But it obviously wasn't her.

Clara's hands began shaking as she started to frantically look for more pictures. Eventually, she found one. It was a picture of John, Oswin and Max, who was in her arms, in front of the Eifel Tower. The photo was much clearer and there was no doubt now that Oswin looks exactly like her. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Sorry it took me so long – an eggshell ended up in the bowl and it took me a while to finally get rid of it," John said as he entered the bedroom with a tray full of food. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he saw Clara sitting on the floor, holding a stack of pictures in her hands., with tears streaming down her cheeks.


	18. Chapter 18

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! Hope you're buckled up._

* * *

John stared at the crying woman, racking his brain to try and explain what was going on. He immediately set the tray on the drawer before he found the courage to say, "Clara…"

"Don't you dare!" she snapped, rising to her feet. "Don't you dare say my name."

"I can explain," he said, trying to calm her but she slapped his hand away.

"You used me!" she hissed. She never felt so ashamed and humiliated in her life.

"No, please, that's not true," he argued.

Clara glared at him, eyes full of fury before she tossed the photos at him. "You used me this whole time!"

"Clara, I promise you-"

"I told you not to say my name!" she yelled. It all made sense now. Why he had been so hesitant to talk about his late wife, why he acted so strangely when they first met. He didn't love her. He loves his wife. How could she have been so blind?

When John tried to touch her again, she slapped his hand away once more before rushing out of the bedroom.

"Were you ever planning on telling me?" she demanded.

"Yes, I wanted to tell you this morning," he reasoned. "I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but I never found the courage."

"I'm leaving," she announced, not believing a single word he said and picking up her clothes off the floor.

"Please, just let me explain," John begged but it fell on deaf ears. "Whatever it is you're thinking, it's not true!"

Clara shook her head and shut her eyes. "John, just shut up!" she growled before slamming the door in his face and locking herself in the bathroom.

He knocked. "Please," he pleaded, leaning his forehead against the door. He had really screwed up this time. There was rustling on the other side of the door and a second later, Clara stormed out in the dress she wore the previous night. John's shirt had been discarded in the sink. "I never meant to hurt you."

"Maybe you should have told me about Oswin then!"

His body immediately tensed. "You think it's easy, don't you – you never lost the mother of your child!" he roared, causing her to flinch and he immediately regretted his actions. "Clara… I'm sorry…"

She said nothing as she hurried down the stairs, more tears flowing down her rosy cheeks.

"I didn't mean what I said," John said hastily as he followed her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Don't you dare follow me," was all she said as reached for the door.

John grabbed her arm. "Clara, let me explain-"

Clara raised her hand and gave him a hard slap, causing him to release her. "You've reduced me to nothing more than a replacement," she said quietly. "You never loved me, did you, John – you only saw me as your late wife and do you have any idea what that feels like?"

He stared at her, eyes wide with one hand holding his sore cheek. His blue eyes were pleading to her, but Clara was upset and angry. There was no point in trying to reason with her.

"Don't follow me or l will call the police," she said before stepping out and slamming the door.

John stood in the hallway, chest heaving as he processed what had happened. He didn't move until he heard a vehicle pass by. He had no idea how long he had been standing there.

Silently, he dropped his hand and turned around before making his way upstairs.

As soon as he was in the bedroom, his hands curled into fists. John punched the wooden door in frustration and anger until his knuckles started to bleed and he was no longer able to move his hand due to the pain.

He sank to the floor, trying to fight back the tears. After sitting on the ground for what felt like an eternity, he slowly got on his feet and went to the bathroom to get a shower and clean the wound. He was determined to apologise to Clara and set things right.

However, it was clear that it wasn't going to happen any time soon. John had been texting and calling her, but she refused to answer. Then again, she was upset and needed space, so he stopped trying by midday.

By midnight, after downing a whole bottle of whiskey in misery, he passed out.

* * *

John Smith opened his eyes and blinked several times before his eyes adjusted to the brightness. He was in the bedroom and oddly enough, the mark which he had left on the door was now gone as if it was never there.

Silently, he sat up and looked around. Something felt different. He felt as if he was at home and yet, he wasn't. Pushing the covers, he climbed out of bed. It was then he heard footsteps approaching the door.

Was Max home already?

Just as he was about to move, the bedroom door swung open and John felt his heart stop. "Oswin," he gasped.

 _How could I know I would have to leave you?_ _  
_ _How could I know I would hurt you so?_ _  
_ _You were the one I was born to love_ _  
_ _Oh, how could I ever know?_ _  
_ _How could I ever know?_

She smiled kindly at him. That beautiful smile of hers that was seared in his mind. "Hello, John."

He slowly approached her and extended an arm to touch her but pulled away at the final second, fearing she would disappear if he did. "No, this can't be real… I'm dreaming again…"

 _How can I say to go on without me?_ _  
_ _How, when I know you still need me so?_ _  
_ _How can I say not to dream about me?_ _  
_ _How could I ever know?_ _  
_ _How could I ever know?_

Oswin shook her head before grabbing his hand and placing it on her cheek. "I'm as real as you want me to be, John."

He felt a lump in his throat. "I've missed you so much," he confessed, gently caressing her face with his thumb.

"It doesn't take a professor of mathematics to see that," she joked.

 _Forgive me, can you forgive me?_ _  
_ _And hold me in your heart_ _  
_ _And find some new way to love me_ _  
_ _Now that we're apart_

He smiled, tears welling up in his eyes. He leaned closer and planted a kiss on her forehead before he realised he was dreaming and kept some distance between them. "No, no, this is a dream – I can't…" was all he muttered. He didn't think he would have the strength to wake up if he kissed her.

His wife stared at him with pity. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

 _How could I know I would never hold you?_ _  
_ _Never again in this world_ _  
_ _But oh, sure as you breathe I am there inside you_ _  
_ _How could I ever know?_ _  
_ _How could I ever know?_

"What do you mean?"

She took a step closer to her husband. "This, you're torturing yourself… why haven't you let me go?" she asked gently.

 _How can I hope to go on without you?_ _  
_ _How can I know where you'd have me go?_ _  
_ _How can I bear not to dream about you?_ _  
_ _Oh, how can I let you go?_ _  
_ _How could I ever know?_

John looked away from her as he didn't want her to see him crying. "I don't think I can… I…"

Oswin placed a hand on his cheek. "You've found someone, and she loves you very much, John," she explained. "Clara is right, you need to move on and forgive yourself."

He finally glanced at her. "I don't want to forget about you."

His wife laughed quietly. "Nobody is asking you to do that, you silly old man," she answered. "I'm just asking you to let me go."

 _All I need is there in the garden_ _  
_ _All I would ask is care for the child of our love_ _  
_ _Come, go with me, safe I will keep you_ _  
_ _Where you would lead me, there I would_ _  
_ _There I would, there we would, there we will go_

John clasped both of her hands with him before bringing them to his lips. "I don't know how," he murmured.

Oswin slipped her hand out of his grasp before placing it right above his heart. "You go on and love her, find Clara and tell her how much she means to you."

 _Oh! How could I know?_ _  
_ _Tell me how could I know?_ _  
_ _Never to know you would ever leave me_ _  
_

"I love you, Oswin," John professed. He didn't want his wife to think he would stop loving her. "Please know that," he whispered.

His wife beamed before she kissed his cheek. "I know, John," she replied. "But I can't help but wonder if you have two hearts instead of one."

"Why is that?"

"This is why," Oswin explained. "You love me and yet, you love Clara too – and no, I'm not upset, if anything, I'm happy you finally found someone."

John didn't care if this was a dream, but he needed to show how much his wife meant to him. He bent down and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. "I love you."

"And I love you, John Smith," Oswin said when they pulled away before resting a hand on his chest again. "But time keeps moving on and so must you."

He clasped her hand and nodded.

 _How could we ever know?_ _  
_ _How could we know?_

Silently, Oswin turned around and made her way to the door. "Are you coming?" she asked, offering her hand.

John swallowed the lump in his throat before he held her hand. His wife guided him downstairs. "Where are we going?"

"Putting the demons away once and for all," she replied.

He furrowed his brows until he realised what she meant when he heard Max crying out in the street as they stood in front of the door. John started breathing heavily. "No, please don't open the door."

Oswin turned to look at him. "There is nothing behind it."

"Can't you hear it?" he asked frantically, squeezing his eyes shut.

"That's because you're only hearing what you want to hear," she explained, squeezing his hand. "Focus, John."

He exhaled through his nose before he silenced the crying.

She then pulled the door open, while John tensed, bracing himself for the scene he had witnessed countless times in his nightmares but there was nothing there. It was just an empty street. There wasn't a wrecked car or a five-year-old boy crying next to his dead mother. Nothing.

Oswin stared at her husband. "See, there's nothing there," she said closing the door.

"No," he agreed. "I suppose there isn't."

She smiled. "I need you to promise me something," she said, hand above his heart.

"Anything."

"When you wake up, go to Clara and tell her how you truly feel, don't just keep everything bottled up in that chest of yours, love her as you've loved me and… tell Max that if his mummy was around, she would be so proud of him."

John started shedding tears again but managed a smile. "I promise," he murmured, clasping her hand.

Oswin fought back her own tears. "Goodbye, John," she murmured, slid her hand free before moving past him.

"Goodbye, Oswin."

 _How could I ever know?_

He couldn't bear to watch her go until the final moment. "Oswin," he said, turning around but she was gone. The house was empty once more. "Thank you," he whispered.

A second later, a knock was heard. John glanced at the door cautiously before he reached for the door handle. He held it, wondering who was on the other side. Only one way to find out. He pulled the door open and was greeted by the last person he least expected to see.

"Hello, you stupid old man," Clara said, beaming at him.

John returned the smile. "Clara," he murmured before wrapping his arms around her and twirling her around.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, John Smith saw that he wasn't in the hallway, twirling Clara Oswald in his arms. Instead, he was back in his bedroom. He glanced to his left and saw the hole in the door which he had left the previous day.

Slowly, he sat up, trying to shake off the sleep from his eyes and massaging his forehead due to a massive headache, when he heard a drone flying in the garden. Looks like Max is home from his trip.

He reached for the watch on the bedside table and checked the time. 12:01. Placing the watch back, John gathered his thoughts. He would have to tell Max about the broken promise and then he would drive to Clara's flat to apologise to her. One could only hope she would at least allow him to explain.

He stared at the wedding band he had never taken off since the day of his wedding, twirling it around. Oswin is right. He needed to move on. He took off the ring, staring at it for a moment before closing his palm.

Suddenly, he smiled. There was a strange feeling in his chest. It felt as if he was free. Free from the guilt, free to love Clara, free to move on.

First thing's first, however. He would have to be honest with his son.


	19. Chapter 19

_Thank you so much for your amazing support! :)_

* * *

John made his way downstairs, careful not to make any noise. He could still hear the drone flying in the garden as he made his way to the kitchen. Before he stepped out, he stared at his son. Max had grown up too fast for his liking and he wished time would just slow down a bit. He smiled. Oswin would be very proud, indeed.

"Max," he called out. "Can I have a word with you?"

The young man didn't hesitate to abandon what he was doing and a few moments later, he walked up to his father with a concerned look on his face. "Dad, are you alright?" he asked. He had just got home about ten minutes ago and there were so many questions going through his mind. "I saw the hole in the door."

John nodded to the kitchen. "Let's talk."

As they sat down, Max noticed two things: One, his father's right hand was bruised. Two, the wedding band was missing. "What happened to your hand?" he asked in concern. "What's going on – did something happen?"

"Relax, Max," his father assured. "I am fine – never felt better, if I'm honest."

His son still wasn't able to let his guard down completely. Something had clearly happened while he was away. "Can you at least tell me what happened?"

John licked his lips, choosing his words carefully. "I broke the promise."

Max took a moment to figure out what his father was talking about. "You mean, you didn't tell her about mum?"

He nodded. "I was going to tell her yesterday morning, but she found a photo of your mother," the father explained, choosing to leave the details of the argument that transpired.

"Why did it take you this long to tell her… I thought she knew after you know, she started staying here."

"I'm sorry, Max," John said. "I was a coward – I'm sorry I broke the promise."

After a while, his son finally spoke. "What happens now?"

John shrugged. "I've been trying to call her since yesterday but she's not answering – I just wanted to know if Clara's safe," he said, standing up.

"Dad," Max called out. "Do you really love Miss Oswald for who she is?" he asked. He was so sure of it before, but not anymore.

The father glanced at his son. "I thought I would never love another woman again after your mother died, I wasn't interested in anybody else and I couldn't bring myself to betray your mother… but to see her again in person… I admit, the first time I met Clara, I was only attracted to her because she looks so much like her," he confessed. "But I realised," he continued, remembering their first kiss in the car park. "That I love her for who she is – she's bossy, smart, understanding and she took care of you while I was out cold – I'd be a fool not to love and see her."

Max nodded as he stood up. "Is that why you took off the wedding band?"

"You're not mad are you, son?"

"No," the young man reassured. "Just looks a bit unusual, if I'm honest," he said, smiling.

John returned the smile before he sighed. "Your mother would be very proud of you, Max," he began. "She would be so proud of you if she was here."

Max felt his heartstrings being pulled. He had never heard his father say those words to him before. "Thanks, dad, it means a lot to me," he said, hugging him.

"You've certainly turned into a brilliant young man – a much more sensible one than your father," the older Smith murmured, patting his son on the back.

"I learned from the best," he answered before breaking free.

John beamed before he turned around.

"Dad."

"Yes, kiddo?" he replied.

"You should really go and see Miss Oswald," he said. It would be a shame if the two broke up because of a misunderstanding.

John pressed his lips together. "I don't think she wants to see me right now."

"No, she's probably still mad at you," Max reasoned. "But really, dad, are you going to repeat the same mistake twice?"

The father pondered for a moment. He had promised Oswin after all. "Alright, I'll go."

"By the way, Bill and I are just a phone call away if you need any help, especially from Bill," the young man joked.

"I think I'm going to need all the help I can get," John muttered, walking up the steps.

An hour later, he drove to Clara's flat, practising his apology, on his way there.

John Smith never felt so nervous in his life as he glanced at the building in which Clara resided. He was in the car, trying to get his nerves under control. She had threatened to call the police on him if he followed her yesterday, after all.

He had considered buying flowers but thought that it would be a risky move. No, he came here to talk to her and set things straight. No flowers. Just him. Just John Smith, a man who happens to be in love with a school teacher.

As he was about to open the door, he was reminded that his right hand was still injured so he used his good hand to open unlock the door and step out.

The closer he got to the flat, the weaker his knees became. What if she doesn't want to hear a single explanation or apology from him at all? He wants to be honest with her but the idea of being rejected terrified him.

How was he going to fulfil the promise in that circumstance? No, he would try his best to convince Clara to allow him to talk to her. If she doesn't want to let him in, which he rightly so deserved, he would just say everything he needed to say there and then. Screw everyone else. It was none of their business anyway.

John stood in front of the blue door he was now so familiar with. He took a deep breath before lifting his left and, curling it into a fist before knocking twice.

* * *

Clara Oswald felt miserable. She hadn't felt this miserable and pathetic since her mother died about 15 years ago. The moment she returned to her flat, she took a long shower and for the rest of the day, lied in bed, crying herself to sleep.

Clara couldn't believe she had been so blind. She should have known. Maybe she should have dug deeper when Max had called her 'mum' by accident.

Regardless, it was too late now, and in the end, she was the one who got hurt the most.

Her smartphone was next to her and it had been sitting there all day yesterday. It kept ringing and beeping constantly. No doubt the messages and missed calls were all from one person.

She didn't want to face or talk to him. She was upset and angry with him for hiding such a thing from her. If he had been honest with her in the first place, then maybe Clara wouldn't be crying in her bed right now.

It was then the school teacher caught sight of the bouquet of flowers John had given her a few days ago. The white lilacs sat on the vanity, in front of the three mirrors he kept complaining about.

Those were never for her. Clara wiped the tears from her eyes before sitting up and staring at it for a moment. She should get rid of those.

She climbed out of bed, and as she was about to grab the bouquet of flowers, two knocks were heard, and Clara froze.

She had become familiar with the way John likes to knock on her door. Twice in the same rhythm. She didn't want to deal with him right and ignored the door, returning to bed.

Four knocks were heard this time and Clara massaged her forehead. She hoped he would leave if she continued to ignore him.

Her phone then started beeping. A new message had been received. Her hand hovered above the electronic device, wondering if she should check the message.

"Clara, please, I need to know if you're here," she heard John's muffled voice through the front door.

She picked up her phone and decided to only read the first message.

' _Did you get home safely? I need to know if you're safe'_

Clara tossed her phone on the bed and decided to get rid of John. She marched down the narrow hallway and stopped right in front of the door.

"If you're listening, I'm sorry, I really am," John said, almost begged.

"Just go away, please," was all she managed to say.

"Would you at least accept my apology?" he asked. "Please, if you're not comfortable letting me in, maybe we can talk at a café or-"

"I don't want to hear anything from you!" she snapped.

John leaned his forehead against the door. "Please, Clara," he begged. "Give me a chance to explain."

"You had your chance – you had plenty of chances to come clean with me and yet you chose to wait until I found out about it myself!"

"I promise you that was not how I planned it – I even made a promise to Max to tell you, but I was afraid," he replied. "I'm sorry I yelled at you… I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner – I was afraid that… if I started opening up about Oswin, you would think I didn't feel anything for you," he explained. Oh, he was rubbish at this.

Clara was silent for quite a while and as John was about to say her name again, she finally spoke. "I don't believe you – I don't think you see me at all."

He sighed. "Just tell me what I have to do to prove to you that my feelings for you are genuine."

She shook her head and fought back the tears. "I don't know – just leave me alone."

"Clara, could you at least let me set things straight?" he pleaded.

"I told you, John, I don't want to hear anything from you," she sighed in frustration. "I'm so confused right now – you used me!"

"I promise you that I never used you."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. "Leave before I call the police."

John's shoulders sank in defeat. He was going to lose her so what does it matter if the people hear him. "Can I say something before I go?" he asked gently. He took her silence as a yes. "I love you," he confessed. "I thought that the day Oswin died was the day my heart died along with her – there was nobody else that could compare to her… until I met you… I would be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to you because you remind me of Oswin but the more I got to know you, the more I realised I was falling in love with a completely different woman and when you kissed me, I knew my feelings for you were genuine… I was a coward when you told me you love me that night… Believe me, I wanted to say so much more, but I'm an idiot – I was afraid of what would happen if I said those words back," he explained. Only two people had heard him say those words. Now it's three. "I don't think I've ever felt so happy and alive since I met you... you were the one who helped stop the nightmares, after all."

There was still silence and John had assumed Clara either didn't care or had stopped listening.

"I just thought you should know how much you mean to me," he murmured. "I'm sorry for hurting you."

He waited for a few more seconds, hoping Clara would open the door but it never happened. Accepting his defeat, he began walking in the direction of the staircase.

Just then, the front door creaked open slightly. Just enough for her to get a proper view. Clara had been shocked when John had said those three words. She didn't expect him to utter them to her, especially in public.

He looked at her pleadingly, eyes begging for forgiveness.

"Did you really mean that?" she asked quietly.

"I'll say them again if you want me to," he whispered, stepping closer. "I know I deserve hell for what I did but believe me when I say that I only think about you when we're together… I love you, Clara Oswald."

She fought back the tears, scanning his eyes to see if he was telling the truth as she stepped outside.

John anxiously stood still.

"Do you really see me?" she asked.

He furrowed his brows before he bravely placed a hand on her soft cheek. He could only hope Clara wouldn't slap him again or push him away as he bent down and captured her lips in a tender kiss. He hoped it would prove to her once and all for all that he truly loves her. What else could he do?

Clara closed her eyes and yielded to the kiss. It was different. It felt different. There was something about the kiss that made it feel as if John was pouring all the love he has for her into the kiss.

Eventually, the need for air caused them to pull away. They stared into each other's eyes before Clara kissed him once more. She felt the same thing again. She couldn't really explain it, but it was as if the spark had only gotten stronger. There was no slight hesitation or restraint coming from John.

"When do I not see you?" John whispered once their lips separated, resting his forehead against hers.

"I'll accept your apology on one condition," she stated.

"Name it."

"You have to be honest with me from now on," Clara said. "And in return, I will move in with you."

John beamed. "Thank you."

Her eyes then caught sight of his bruised hand. "What happened to your hand?" she asked in concern. It had a ghastly colour to it and knowing John, he probably didn't do much to tend it.

"I, um, I was a bit cross with myself yesterday," he confessed, hiding his right hand behind his back. He gritted his teeth when she grabbed it.

"You truly are an idiot," she muttered before dragging him inside and instructing him to sit on the sofa while she disappeared into the kitchen to get an ice pack.

"It's not that serious," John reasoned. "It'll heal."

"Yes, but your cuts are still open and if you continue to leave it like that, you'll get an infection," she sighed, returning with a first aid kit and an ice pack.

He said nothing as Clara tended the wound. She kept glancing at his left hand which was now missing the wedding ring. "I took off the wedding band because I wanted to let go of the past," he said quietly.

He had definitely proved to her that with his confession and the kiss.

The school teacher looked up once she was done bandaging John's hand. "I'm sorry for acting on my emotions," she murmured, both hands, clasping his.

"You had every right to be cross with me," he replied, placing the ice pack on his hand as she put away the first aid.

"I was," she confessed, sitting next to him. "But it doesn't give me the excuse to slap you."

John smiled. "Like I said, I deserved it – I'm sorry."

Clara gently placed a hand on his cheek, the spot where she had slapped him the previous day. "You apologise too much, you know that?" she whispered.

"I'd apologise for four and a half billion years if it means getting your forgiveness."

She shook her head, biting her lower lip. "That sounds so cheesy," she laughed.

John leaned closer and captured her lips once more. Clara kissed him back, smiling as she did so.

"Would you like to come home with me?" he asked. "Max was quite worried."

"Hang on," she said. "I thought you said you wanted me to move in after he's off to Oxford."

"I had a miserable time being away from you," he answered, grinning.

Clara shook her head, trying to hide her smile. "Honestly, stop it with the cheesy lines."

"Besides, I think it's no secret that Max loves having you around."

She stood up, grabbing the first aid kit. "Alright, just give me a few days to think about it and maybe pack all the essentials first."

John followed her to the kitchen. "Take as much time as you need – as for packing, Max and I can help."

She stowed away the kit in the cupboard before turning around to face him. "So, do I have two boys to boss around now?"

John grinned.

Clara got on her toes and pecked him on the lips. He wrapped his arms around her and without warning, twirled her around.

"You're already bossing us around anyway."

The laughter that came from Clara's lips was music to John's ears.


	20. Chapter 20

_The story has finally come to an end. Thank you so much for your amazing support and comments :) Wouldn't be able to complete it without encouragement from my awesome readers. Enjoy :)_

* * *

 **Epilogue**

 _Two Years Later_

John Smith looked in the mirror and adjusted his bowtie for the billionth time that day. He was dressed in a pair of black trousers and a waistcoat with a white shirt beneath it, all complemented by the black tailcoat jacket

Today was a very special and big day, not only for him but for Clara Oswald, too. Soon to be Clara Smith.

He stared at his reflection, finally happy with his appearance, when one of the large wooden doors swung open and John's son, Max stepped inside. He also was dressed in a black suit, but with a grey shirt.

"Hey, dad," he greeted with a wide grin. "How are you feeling?"

John turned around and blew air between his lips. "A bit nervous… well, extremely nervous."

"Don't worry, everything is going to be fine," Max reassured his father. "Everything is under control."

The older Smith arched a brow. "Why do I have a feeling that's not what's actually happening right now?"

His son maintained his grin. "The justice of the peace isn't here yet – he's stuck in traffic."

"The wedding starts in less than hour," John said, panicking. "Does Clara know?"

"Yep, I asked Aunt Missy to tell her and Sarah's looking for someone to step in, in case he can't make it."

John nodded, but he needed something to reassure him more. "Do you have the rings?"

Max beamed before producing a set of rings from the pocket of his jacket. "Safe and sound."

The father nodded his head fixing the cuff links on the sleeve of his shirt.

"Dad, I think you need to relax a bit," the young man suggested.

He took a deep breath. "I'm fine."

Just then, Max's phone started ringing and he immediately answered it. A few seconds later, he smiled at his father. "You're just in luck – you're going to get married after all," he said lightly. "The justice of the peace just got here."

"That's a relief," he murmured.

"You ready, dad?" Max asked, walking towards the door. His father followed him.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he answered, smiling. He was feeling both giddy and nervous. John couldn't wait to finally make an honest woman out of Clara.

Twenty minutes later, John Smith stood at the altar, with his son standing next to him as best man.

The groom and the guests waited patiently for the ceremony to start. Missy sat in the front seat, next to Sarah. Bill sat in the second row, with her girlfriend.

Music began playing and John squared his shoulders, standing tall as he waited for his wife to be.

Everyone smiled when Clara, who was dressed in a minimal white dress, walked to the altar, escorted by her father. She locked eyes with John and smiled at him, despite looking slightly nervous.

Dave Oswald let go of Clara and the two men shook hands. "Take care of my daughter."

"I will."

The music stopped as the couple faced the justice of the peace who smiled kindly at them. "Friends and family, we are gathered here today to celebrate the very special love between Clara and John, by joining them in marriage," he began. "Love is a beautiful thing - we all want to love and be loved and there is no doubt in my mind that these two people standing before me are in love."

Clara and John glanced at each other. A shy smile playing on their lips.

"Love isn't just a word, it's also an action, to love someone is to take care of them, to spend the rest of your life with them, to share your happiness and sorrows with them and to always be there for them – love, it's all around us and love never dies," he explained. "And no, I'm not referring to The Phantom of the Opera musical sequel," he added, causing the room to be filled with laughter.

He stared at the couple once more. "A marriage is both rewarding and challenging, just like life itself, but instead of going through it alone, the both of you will now go through it together."

From the corner of his eyes, Max saw his Aunt Missy smile. Not a sarcastic or mocking one. But a genuine smile.

"John and Clara," he addressed. "Your rings will seal the vows of your marriage and represent a promise – a promise to love each other for all eternity."

The justice of the peace then glanced at Max and he immediately pulled out the rings. He handed them over to the officiate before taking his seat next to his girlfriend, and aunt.

John grabbed Clara's hand, beaming at her before he took the ring. "Clara, I take you as my wife – I promise to love and cherish you, to grow with you and share my life with you – the day you agreed to marry me was one of the happiest days of my life - I am so lucky to have met you and you have no idea how much you mean to me – I promise to love and respect you and our marriage, for all my tomorrows and beyond," he said, sliding the ring onto her finger.

Clara was now beaming from ear to ear. She took the ring and said, "John, I take you as my husband – I promise to love and cherish you, to grow with you and share my life with you – we may have had a rocky relationship at the start, but I believe it had only helped me to understand you better and made our love stronger – I love you, you daft man."

The guests awed at her speech before she continued.

"I promise to love and respect you and our marriage, for all my tomorrows and beyond," she said and slipped the wedding band into his finger.

The justice of the peace nodded. "John and Clara, you have promised each other your love and commitment – it is with this in mind I now pronounce you husband and wife," he announced and glanced at the groom. "You may kiss the bride."

John placed a hand on Clara's cheek before he bent down and captured her lips while she wrapped her arms around his neck. The room erupted with cheering and well wishes.

* * *

Clara Smith set the timer for the cooker and checked the chicken one last time before she shut the oven. It was a week before Christmas, and Max is expected to return from Oxford anytime now. He had phoned earlier to tell her that his train was delayed due to a signalling problem and would, therefore, be running a bit late.

It didn't matter. They were still going to share with him the good news regardless of whether he would be home on time or not.

To say they hadn't expected to receive such a surprise would be a lie. Clara and John had discussed the topic before and both agreed that if it were to happen, then it would happen.

There was no doubt in her mind that Max would be over the moon.

The school teacher then stared at her wedding ring and smiled. She remembered the time her husband went to her apartment and told her about his past. She had forgiven him, of course, for hurting her, but it took her a while to truly accept his apology.

Sure, she moved in with him, but only after she was completely sure he loves her. He had allowed her time and space to process everything and in the end, she decided to give him a chance.

Just then, Clara heard the front door unlock. "I wasn't able to find the exact brand you requested but I found the same sauce from a different one," John announced as he took off his jacket and scarf. It was freezing outside.

"It'll do," she said as he handed her the bottle.

"It's quite evil of you to ask me to go out when it's snowing outside," her husband teased.

She arched a brow, smiling. "And who was it that said I didn't have to go out in case I slipped or something?"

"I think I made the right choice – nearly slipped and fell while I was on my way back and besides, your health is much more important than mine."

Her eyes widened. "What?" she asked, concern written all over her face.

"Relax, I didn't slip – just nearly," he said, kissing her on the cheek before heading for the living room.

Clara crossed her arms. "You need to get proper shoes," she reasoned.

"It doesn't snow very often – this will probably last for a day or two and I'm not going to spend money on a pair of boots that will only be used once a year," he replied, switching on the television.

"Fine, but at some point, you will slip if you keep this up," she warned, joining him on the sofa. "And when that happens, I will be there to gloat," she joked.

John rolled his eyes before he wrapped an arm around his wife as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm taking you to high street tomorrow and we are going to find you a new pair of shoes," she stated.

Her husband laughed. "Yes, boss," he murmured, kissing her hair.

They watched a period drama together and halfway through, heard the front door unlock.

"Guess who's finally home after being stuck in a train for half an hour," Max announced as he stepped inside, carrying a small suitcase.

The couple greeted him.

Max hugged Clara first and kissed her cheek before he hugged his father.

"Welcome home, kiddo," John said.

"Thanks, dad," he replied, smiling before pulling away.

John then wrapped an arm around his wife. He glanced at her, eyebrows raised.

"I feel as if you're about to tell me something," Max said, grinning.

Clara beamed. "Why don't you unpack and rest first while your father and I prepare dinner?"

The young man nodded. "Fair enough," he murmured, running upstairs to his bedroom.

Less than thirty minutes later, the family of three was gathered at the table, eating dinner. Max had been anticipating the news they were going to share.

John and Clara exchanged looks. His father then coughed and set down the fork he held. "Max, we have some good news we want to share with you."

The young man grinned. "What is it?"

John placed a hand on his wife's stomach before he nodded at her.

Clara smiled, placing a hand on top of her husband's. "We're having a baby."

Max was now grinning from ear to ear. "Congratulations – that's amazing!"

He had been expecting them to tell him for a few weeks now, especially when he found out Clara had stopped riding her motorcycle to school. He got up and hugged them both.

* * *

Max Smith walked as fast as he could along the hallway of the hospital. He had received a phone call from his father the previous night that Clara's water broke, and that she was rushed to the hospital immediately.

He informed Sarah he would be away for the day and made the decision to take the earliest train possible back to London, even going as far as far as waking up at five in the morning. Max didn't even bother stopping at home first, and instead made his way straight to the hospital.

The moment he had arrived, he asked the receptionist for the location of the maternity ward since his father had texted him over an hour ago that Clara had given birth. He, however, refused to reveal the gender.

Max finally found the baby ward and slowly approached the clear window. He scanned through each baby until he spotted his step-mother's name on one of the tiny clear cribs. A smile played on his lips as he finally saw his baby sister who was sound asleep.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" John asked as he stood next to his son.

"I have a sister," Max murmured.

"We've agreed to name her Victoria," his father continued. The name was suggested by Max while he was reading a paper about Queen Victoria his girlfriend had written. "Victoria Oswin Smith."

The young man glanced at his father. "It suits her."

"How's Clara?" he asked. When Clara and John had gotten married, Max hadn't been comfortable with the idea of calling his step-mother Miss Oswald, so he had opted to call her Clara instead.

"Tired, as you would expect," John replied. "But she just woke up."

Father and son then headed for the ward where Clara was located at.

"Max," she greeted tiredly. "I didn't expect you to get here so soon."

"Couldn't really sleep after dad called," he said, standing next to her bed.

"That makes it the two of us – I only held your sister for a short while," she commented, eyes full of exhaustion. She wanted nothing more than to hold her daughter right now.

John then spoke up. "I could ask the nurse to bring Victoria here."

"Please," his wife replied as he went off in search of a nurse. She then focused her attention on Max. "How's uni – how's Sarah?"

"I have a test coming up next week and Sarah is fine – she said congratulations, by the way."

A soft knock was heard, and Missy stepped inside.

"How did you get here so fast?" her nephew asked, surprised.

"I took a train just like you did and instead of rushing, I waited for the faster service," she replied before glancing at her sister-in-law. "Clara, despite the exhaustion, I can see how happy you are."

"Thanks, Missy," she replied with a hoarse voice.

John stepped into the room and smiled at his sister. "Nice to see you here so early."

"First impressions matter," she replied smoothly. "I did the same thing when Max was born."

John then took his seat in the chair next to the bed and grasped his wife's hand. "The nurse will bring Victoria in soon."

"Oh, by the way, Bill told me she'll be here at midday," Max told his father.

A minute later, a nurse rolled in the crib next to Clara before handing the baby to her and left. "Hello, darling," she murmured, smiling at her daughter.

Everyone gathered around to take a closer look at the new addition to the family and each taking their turn to hold Victoria.

Eventually, Max and Missy left to have breakfast together. John and Clara were left to themselves again while Victoria was taken back to the baby ward.

"Clara," John murmured, and she opened her eyes, granting him a smile.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," he whispered. "For giving me a second chance."

"We did agree to have children, after all."

"It's not just that," he said. "I still feel bad for what I did to you."

Clara inhaled before she squeezed his hand. "I admit, I didn't forgive you completely that day until you decided to look for a new house – it sounds selfish, I know, but that was when I knew you truly wanted to move on – I had forgiven you completely for a while now, John," she confessed. "Why else did I agree to marry you, aside from the obvious, of course."

"It's the reason why I bought the house and it's not selfish when I should have been more considerate sooner."

She smiled. "But don't let me stop you from visiting Oswin," she said. "You haven't visited her grave for a while, have you?"

"Almost two years," he confessed. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about his late wife since, but John wanted to focus on the things going on his life.

Her tired eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected it to be that long. "It would be cruel to ask you to forget about her."

He brought the back of her hand to his lips. "I'm the luckiest idiot in the universe to have such an amazing wife."

Clara beamed once more. "And I'm the luckiest woman to have such a caring and loving husband."

"I love you," he whispered, stroking her hair back before kissing.

"And I love you."

 **The End**

* * *

 _Thank you so much for reading if you have come this far. The next story I will be posting is titled "Happily Ever After" (not a sequel - this is a completely different story) which deals with John and Clara becoming parents while at the same time dealing with their respective past. Thank you again for your amazing support! :)_


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